I would change a few things, but I wouldn’t change how it ended. My body wouldn’t be scared off so easily; it would wonder why the hurt didn’t cut deeper. But would it take more of it? A giver of something it would never receive, at least not from those ones. It hurt once, but it doesn’t anymore. I lose nothing, and it’s not for my gain that I give. I know this, but is there a limit? Maybe there is, but for now, I still believe no love is wasted.
Even when love doesn’t come back, when it leaves me feeling hollow, it still isn’t for nothing. Maybe that’s why I don’t walk away. I keep stepping back into it, because there’s something about giving that makes it all worth it. You lose parts of yourself, but what you give remains.
I think about how love tears through you, leaves you raw, but I would do it all again. Over and over. No matter the price, because it’s clear to me now. I see it all—what I gave, what I lost—but I still don’t regret it. Maybe that’s why I stay, why I let myself fall back into it. There’s something in the wreckage that feels whole.
To be undone but choosing to love again.
Note: Slightly inspired by Francesca by Hozier and this one 'Nana' (anime) quote.
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