If You Love Something

You said you were damaged

and that you’d take advantage of me.

What I thought were excuses

were rooted in truth.

I realized you really do love me.

It hurt at first—

going from consistent

to distant.

I mourned you.

But you warned me.

And now I see:

you pushed me away

to save me

from everything

you’re putting her through.

You cared for me too much

to keep up the charade.

You spared me the heartbreak—

the loss of my integrity,

the locking of doors

to unlock phones,

the desperation of rifling through messages

just to be gaslit

by broken promises

about “last times,”

thin lines,

and loopholes.

You know she’ll forgive you.

And it’s only a matter of time

before you do it again.

Because you don’t really love her—

you keep her.

But when you love something,

you let it go.

And you set me free.

You said you couldn’t do that to me.

So she’ll suffer instead.