The Pain of a Broken Heart. Of a Bleeding Heart.

I am sorry, you know. I tell you this and you just ignore me.

I am sorry that I pointed out the ugly truth. Pointed out my position in your life.

I am a substitute for another. The bed warmer. The one you touch while thinking of her.

I accept it. You don't seem to like the reality of things. It isn't my fault. You have made your decisions. You have chosen your love and your lover. For you will never love me, and that I have accepted.

Keep playing games with me though...Keep playing games and the games will be public.

I stopped playing those games. The games in which I beg for your attention, your voice, your touch. I can seek the touch of another. I just prefer yours. Long for it. Love it.

Do I need you?
Yes and no.
Do I want you?
Maybe so.

You don't need me. You don't want me. You just use me. And I let you. I accept it because I love you. That doesn't make it right, but that makes it my decision.

I am making many decisions right now. Let this be my decision. I would like for you to enjoy it while it lasts. While I allow you to use me.

You won't even see this.

I love you, my dear.

Always,
Ophelia.