I couldn't ruin the idea of us being perfect together with a kiss that we would both regret.
I woke up to you lying flat on your back, my head resting on your shoulders. You were staring intently up at the ceiling. You looked conflicted, frustrated and troubled.
When you walked me to the door, I remember bouncing into the taxi that had been waiting for me along your street. I thought maybe we could forget about what happened last night, since you obviously didn't want to talk about it.
I never once looked back, but I still remember the cab ride. It wiped the smile off my face.
You had just spent the beginning of our last night together getting drunk on white wine and crying to me about your exes and how unfairly they treated you. I sat there, mostly in silence, trying to absorb everything without letting your words hurt me.
You'll wear your heart on your sleeve until you can't take the pain anymore.
You said that you'd never cried in front of anyone before and you don't know why you were crying in front of me.
You started talking to me about the stars.
I wasn't wearing my glasses that night, but I pretended that I could see the warm orange glow of Mercury in the darkness — Or was it Venus? You were hunting for Jupiter, and it made you sad that you couldn't find him. He was always there for you when you were going through a rough time. He was your spirit guide: The only constant in your life when everything else was in flux.
It's a little bit twisted, but I think that you secretly liked the fact that this immature girl wanted your body so badly that she couldn't keep her hands off of you.
I can't be your next available option. I can't be the medicine you take whenever you feel sick. I can't be the drug you'd get high on and night, and forget about when you wake up the next morning and find your sanity.
I was so sick of all the lies, all the pretending, the dishonesty, of feeling used, and being invalidated.
I loved you too much to let you love me when you couldn't even love yourself.