Or were they just in love
with the mystery of me,
not the weight of me?
Because I would have stayed.
Even after the monsters.
Especially after the monsters.
I would have learned their darkness by name,
held it like it wasn’t something to fear.
How can someone be so selfish to forget their only best friend’s birthday in the middle of mourning someone else and then be so lost in that same grief that they forget her death anniversary too? Like how does that even make sense...
What kind of person forgets the two dates that should’ve been carved into their bones?
What kind of love is this that claims it’s deep and endless yet lets the most important days slip by like they meant nothing?