How dare I be written off as a phase, as though I am somehow less of a person for loving you.
I am not a moment in time or a thing to get over, but a whole person who loved you just as wholly.
When you said goodbye it was an end to a romance, but not an end to a person.
I fear that I will never be accepted as we move forward, because I’m only going to be seen as a step back.
They think I’m some inhuman object, just a thing you had to keep for a while to teach you about every part of a real woman you don’t want.
Don’t think I won’t take it lightly, because only objects will idly be tossed around for pleasure.