Lucky to Get Away

I pretended to be someone I wasn't, and let another fall in love with yours truly.
He was on an emotional roller coaster, and I needed to be a person who took care of others in fake sympathy.
Perfect match made in mutual agreement. Or so I thought.

I woke up from staying in bed all day and wearing nothing but sweats.
I got active, got past the mistakes, the hurt.
My heart mended.
I moved on.
Which meant cutting ties, being honest.


The fact that he couldn't made him angry, manipulative. He was too attached.
Clingy. Not the agreement.
"You used me," he screamed in my face. "Cold bitch!"
Bruises.

I'm lucky to have gotten away.

I got one thing out of him, though.
Thanks to him, I'll never date a bastard like him again.

Taken

He's taken. And I knew.

He had been taken for a while, but...
But nothing. Inevitable, really.

No confessions, but a surrender. A draw.

I cheer myself up.

He wasn't special anyway.
So what?
That chick of his is vapid and shallow.
She's so pretty.
He would have broken your heart.
I want to stop running.
He wears a mask.

So do I.