contradiction, in midst of truth.

I tell myself how what he shows isn't him, I tell everyone else how more than this he is. That he is kind, that he is better and that he is- well it doesn't quite matter now. And I'll tell them how he broke my heart, how he didn't want to but I made him. I tell them it's my fault, that he needed something more. Honestly, you can tell yourself whatever you want, however and how often as you wish to and it still won't make it true. Still the story remains, reality away;

I don't love him anymore.

-riri-