I couldn't breathe anymore.
The air was suffocating me.
But you held a hand in front of me,
asking me to run away with you,
promising me you would take care of me,
and never leave me.
So I did.
I trailed behind you at first,
but as I grew comfortable around you,
I wasn't afraid to walk ahead.
But you left.
I was lost,
I had no place to run to.
I have never felt so unsafe.
You lied.
I couldn't accept the truth,
so I convinced myself that you would come back.
For two years, I was wandering around,
trusting so many I was fooled countless times.
You came back.
I was overjoyed,
knowing you would grab my hand once again.
You did.
But it was different.
You never cared.
You just felt as if you were obligated to take care of me.
Because you asked me to come with you,
because you needed a companion,
because you needed some entertainment.
You are ashamed of me.
Others are aware of my existence.
They're not blind, or deaf.
Yet you could never admit the truth.
The moment I am mentioned in your conversation with others,
you can't help but catch their tongues.
As you dragged me along...
I couldn't bear the pain.
I was tripping over my own two feet.
My wrists and arms were bruising from your grip.
Yet you never bothered to ask if I was okay. But he did.
I would like to bid farewell to my feelings towards you.
And thank you for teaching me a lesson.
