What I Wish I'd Told Myself

I could've loved you. But you didn't let me.

You let me believe that I could, never letting on that those weren't your intentions.

When you look at yourself in the mirror, I pray that with time you learn to love yourself the way I had begun to.

You are more than what people say about you, you are more than the rumors, and most of all, you are more than what you see in yourself. You are something special, and I pray that one day you will come to recognize that rather than simply trying to hide it because it's scary to be that vulnerable.

I could've loved you if you would've let me. You showed me your shattered pieces, and if you would've let me, I would've shown you that I had glue. I would've shown you that while you are broken, nothing is beyond repair. If you had me, I could've shown you that you are worth it.

But, you were afraid. The water was rising and you were too afraid to learn to swim. So you decided it would be easier to let me go before it got too deep. I bet you didn't realize that I was already underwater, and by letting me go, you were letting me drown.

I pray that someday soon, someone loves you again, and I pray that when that time comes, that you can let them. And I pray that when you think of all the people who broke you, that you remember me as the one who wouldn't have.

It's true, I could've love you. But you would have had to let me.