It's kind of nice not having to give you so much attention. It's kind of nice that I don't have to make sure you are alright all the time. It's kind of nice that the times I think of you and is when I think of others. It's nice that you don't get a little extra piece of me anymore.       I've never been careful with what I say; that's what makes me me. When I gave you my puppy love, I lost my bark. I feel free that I no longer have to approach you with a censor. If you don't like my new self, the one prior to you, then goodbye. 

All this praise, when all I want is yours.

This makes me sad to say but the few times I've thought my life could ever be perfect is if I were with you. 

  I've been lamenting the death of what you used to represent for me. You used to make me feel confident, you used to make me feel loved, you used to make me feel important.      I made a wish, a difficult one to fulfill. I wanted you to build a dam that can carry all the pressure of a great deal of water. It was beyond your capability. The responsibility was too hard for anyone to carry. You worked day and night, making me think you could fulfill my wish, but...the dam collapsed. The waves took you along with it. You have washed away along with all of my one wish. I looked far and wide; I almost lost myself. Eventually, you returned, but things were different. We no longer saw each other the way we used to. I feel ashamed for thinking you could give a dam.      You used to be my symbol of greatness, but now, when I look at you...you remind me of everything it is I'm insecure about with myself. 

What if this was a test? What if every version of me prior to this has failed to be with you? I hope I'm not in a perpetual cycle of unrequited affection. I can't bear the thought. 

  Remember that so many good things can come about through sacrifice and perseverance.

Now that everything is out on the table, I can finally work on making it good again. For some time, my secrets were keeping me from being fully present with you. Now I can be better.