You’re fluent in conflict avoidance
Dancing through landmines you planted yourself
Say you’re working on “boundaries and balance”
But your therapist deserves hazard pay at this point
You wanted honesty—got it on tap
Meanwhile, you’re running a full-time recap
Of things you swore you’d already closed
Funny how ghosts get VIP codes
And maybe you think you’re being brave
But self-sabotage has such a sweet face
You don’t have to lie—you just rearrange
The facts ‘til they feel less strange
So what happens next? Enlighten me
Another monologue on who you “used to be”?
You’re building bridges just to watch them bend
Telling me it’s healing when it’s just pretend
You say I matter, but only when
You’re not chasing storms dressed up as zen
I’m not the one who needs to flex—
So surprise me…
What happens next?
She’s watching it all like a silent film
Picking up cues on when to shrink or still
You say love is safe, but your hands shake
Every time you touch what you can’t fake
You light a match, then blame the flame
Dress up the wreckage and call it change
Say “I care,” but keep the score
Like I’m the prize and she’s the war
You confuse guilt for depth, and chaos for fate
But growth’s not real if it always comes late
So what happens next? Take the mic
Will you ghost yourself or get it right?
You’re fluent in almost, addicted to “if”
High on apologies, low on shift
You say you’re better—then show me how
’Cause words are cute, but empty now
This isn’t poker, it’s self-respect—
And you’re all in…
So what happens next?
If love’s a mirror, you’ve cracked the glass
Teaching her future by reliving your past
You say you’re grown, but you’re still on pause
A masterclass in noble flaws
Rewrite the script or own the role
You can’t be the hero and play console
She deserves better than borrowed lines
This isn’t healing—it’s buying time
What happens next? Don’t phone it in
This story’s tired, worn too thin
If this is your arc, then call it closed
I’ve outgrown cliffhangers and “almosts”
You wanted real? Then make it count
Or say you can’t and walk it out
But I’ve done my part, no more context—
You choose the ending
What happens next
I’m not your lesson, I’m not your test
But even patience has its exit
ElleLovvesYou
