Love always seemed to be a solid, clear concept to me. Like I knew exactly what it was and what it wasn’t and if something wasn’t love it wasn’t worth it. Now those clear-cut lines have become obscured and the concept of that word vague. Love doesn’t seem to measure up to what it’s supposed to be anymore. The lines have now too often become blurred between love, lust and infatuation and today, staring at the blurred mess makes me angry. It makes me angry that women are made vacations and a hotel room out of when they are promised a home. It makes me angry that today, you did that to me. You passed through my heart’s city a while ago and then you left because you didn’t know how to make a home. I let you leave. I let you go. I hurt and I cried and then I said goodbye and then one day I smiled again. I smiled. And after all those months and all the people who came after you, I still had your face standing out most in my heart, and you came back and this time you faced me today, you know what you want and at that moment, my heart skipped a beat, until you opened your mouth and said I want you for fun, for a vacation, right now, not a home, but for fun and a smile after as though you you were giving me a compliment. But you don’t know about me, you don’t know how hard I try, this is my body and this is my war and my body is not a vacation for you to use at your disposal. My flesh and soul are intertwined and you cannot have my body if you disregard and discard my soul. I thought you cared enough about me to at least respect that much. But you smiled like a fool as though I would jump right in and be a vacation. You smiled, and I turned around thinking, “What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way and what a wicked thing to do to have made me dream of you.”
Here’s the thing though, I used to shrink myself down and become a vacation with the hopes that you’d make me a home, but this time, I will not. I have already made my home. I have built it up alone from the ashes of blurred messes of love and I live in it alone. I am home. I don’t need to have vacations with heartless lovers. My city is open and you are welcome to pass through, but I will not be here crawling for you.
So I’m taking back my dignity and pride and I’m turning around to tell you goodbye. I won’t shout or scream or fall or cry. I’ve already done that for you once and you don’t deserve it twice. I won’t speak and tell you of these aches in my heart you just caused, because I realised, you’re blind to colours of emotions. My emotions sing the greatest song in a sky painted full of colours, so bold. Beautiful shades with stars that implode and are born again. And that sky, that is my heart, that is my home and you are blind to it. What a pity it is that you only wanted my flesh. So I will take back my years I spilled over you and I will take back my body which never belonged to you. I will take back my strength and I will take back my silence. I won’t take back the memories my heart deemed as love because they don’t own any place on my shelf. I will walk away with dignity and integrity, knowing I did what was right, knowing I chose to see the best in you and care, knowing I did everything to open up to you and knowing I can wash my hands clean of this. I won’t take along void memories of seemingly good times because they have no place in my life anymore. So what I will take from you is knowing I am enough and being brave enough to walk away.