I’m tired
I wanted to tell you today that I’m tired.
Tired of always being the thread
that prevents our relationship from breaking apart.
Tired of being the one who sacrifices, who insists,
who apologizes, even when the one in the wrong
in the story isn’t me…
I’m tired of seeing you dodge
my questions; I’m disheartened
by your coldness and by all
of your strange temperament:
of not wanting to hear me in my worst moments;
of not loving me, even when
I ask — sometimes, I beg.
And I’m always there, present;
defending you from everyone,
trying, in so many ways,
to bring back what we once had,
to bring back our smiles, as I haven’t smiled anymore;
to bring back our kisses,
that no longer exist.
Our voluntary caresses, not demanded.
But I wanted to tell you today that I’m tired.
I want you to look at me,
and say something,
because I’m giving up on you — on both of us.
And I don’t feel the least bit selfish.
I know what I did to keep us whole.
As much as I love you deeply,
as much as my whole body is now,
protesting with unbearable pain for you to stay.
Of all the things I may do,
abandoning you will be the greatest
proof of self-love
I have ever given to myself.
