Just me

No matter how trivial or small,
There was always that urge
to correct,
to edit,
to enhance?
Their intentions weren’t bad or evil, you know.
They just thought that if I gave up this piece or that one I’d suit them better.
I’d make them happier,
on some occasions, I’d be easier to handle, maybe.
“Would you give up this dream?
Maybe this tiny obsession of yours?
Would you give up your life,
to be part of mine?”
If it made us happier,
If it made them happier,
I would do it.
Love is sacrifice, right?
I think I took that too literal.
Because to sacrifice this much, to sacrifice your identity
That’s not love. That’s foolishness.
They never did the same anyway,
They never left tiny pieces of themselves on the side of the road upon my request.
Because I never asked and I would never have asked.
They didn’t have to give something away to be likeable,
to be loved.
Looking back at it,
Now after they’re gone,
I think that’s what ruined me.
Falling in love too hard.
Before I had any idea of who I am
or what matters most.
And not knowing makes giving everything up so easy.
Every once in a while, someone would ask.
If I would change for them,
but I’ve learned my lesson.
Well, at least when they decide to leave,
I’ve got myself whole.