the person you were

I've fought for the last months for the person you were;
the person no longer around.
The one who now would rather be with anyone who didn't call them out
as often as it feels I have to you.
A solution would be your not lying to me anymore; I wouldn't have to
call you on it then. Or, maybe you could learn how to better lie.
Then I wouldn't catch you every time.
I wish it were easier to let you go.
I wish it were harder to know that I have to.
I deserve more respect than you show me and you've moved me into a distant, obligatory acquaintance who will pretend she thinks everything is fine,
when really,
I see just as well as you do how cowardly you are being.
Ironically, this is the thing I will not call you on.
Because I deserve better than to have to tell my friend when I know he is being
dishonest.
And if I'm the only one with a
backbone
and a little self-respect,
then I feel
sorry
for you.
The man you were would have enjoyed the places you are going to see a lot more than the boy-whore you've made yourself become. These experiences for you, with your
fingers-in-ears, la la las,
will mean less than if you had walked out, eyes open to the world and all it's wonders and wounders.
Without a perspective on how much hurt there is, how can you feel the real pleasure?
I've never been anywhere, but I know that.
What a waste.

So I mourn the loss of you the Man, and turn and walk away.