Love is a Memory

I must’ve left the room.
I must’ve closed my eyes.

All at once, all too fast
somewhere along the way something went wrong.

And I don’t know when.
And I don’t know why.
And I don’t know what.

What I do know though is that something defiantly changed.

But I don’t know when.
And I don’t know why.
And I don’t know what.

I can’t explain the pain of when you realize that the only few people who really loved you, that even to them you now fall short.

What happened?
What changed?
What’s wrong with me?
What did I do?
Why am I no longer enough?

They used to love me, and for me.
Every part of me.
I didn’t have to try.
But now I count all the ways I just upset them.
All the things their frustrations and actions urge me to change.

What happened to me?
What changed?
How could I even manage to take people who cared so much, and cause them to replace their love with grumbling?

I long to feel loved again.
To be sought after again.
To have my company desired again.
To be enough again.

But I know I messed something up.

Yet I don’t know when.
And I don’t know why.
And I don’t know what.

My head is spinning at all the things I messed up.
All the things I couldn’t keep from going down.
All the ways I fell short.
All the mistakes.

My heart breaks at all the things I’m failing to fix.
All the things that’d be better if I changed.
All the things I lack.
All my insufficiency.

And I keep waiting for things to slow down.

Sincerely,
-still waiting