The Lesson You Gave Me

What is the mark of a prideful man? Is it his stance as he urges himself not to look, is it his coldness when you speak warmness towards him? Or could it be the reminder that one day you two had come close to something nearly illegal in the rules of romance?

Maybe it is the act of being caught and denying everything.

This is the type of man that make women cry at night. The prideful. Their emotions are greater than ours; they forget that their words have cut across us like sharpened blades, or they just don't acknowledge it. Scariest thing is, they usually do know.

To cut me out of your life may be easily done at the moment, but will you think of me later in life as a hateful person (when I did nothing but care), or as the one who got away, or more properly put, the one you pushed away? When your wife sits happily beside you in twenty years or so, will you be thinking of her?

This may not be much to you now, but remember that words carry with time. As time grows older, your words grow wiser and I easily remember why I never went and tried again for a third set of daggers in my back.

You taught me a simple lesson:

Sometimes you just gotta know when to let go of those who don't matter, have never mattered, and will never matter.
The End

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