Prompt:

Well, they say playing dumb is what I do best, because after all, I’m a little dumb, right? A little dumb for waiting for you, a little dumb for remembering you with love, a little dumb for keeping on waiting. A little dumb for expecting things from you when you showed me, over and over again, all the reasons why I should turn around when I saw you up close. This poem reminds me— well, yeah, it reminds me that I don’t know. Because I don’t know. I turned around, and you closed the door. I’ll be dumb for missing you just a little more every day, when in reality I should miss you a little less. But I’m even dumber for knowing I am this way, and not being able to change it. Wanting and being able are two different things— I always told you that. What was I telling you? I always told you so many things, and at the end of the day you couldn’t—or wouldn’t. You wanted to, or maybe you didn’t. I never understood. Or maybe I did. And maybe I was a little dumb for knowing just as well, for wanting to stay anyway. There are still things I don’t understand. Like—oh God— why you never understood me, just like I never understood you. Still, I wanted to understand you, because I loved you like I had never loved anyone. And I wonder— did you ever want to understand me too? And if you did, why didn’t you? Because you loved me too, but you wanted something else. And I guess in the end it doesn’t matter, because once again, I was a little dumb for wanting you to leave when you were the one who stopped wanting me. Yeah… that part is weird. But yeah. I was a little dumb.