I always knew,

but am just now coming to understand entirely,

that to regret having loved

is to regret having lived.


And giving that piece of myself to you

didn’t take it from me.

I must remember

that I didn’t give my love

to you

on the condition that you would reciprocate it.

I gave it to you to use it as you wished,

and though I hoped you would return it,

I cannot be mad that you didn’t

because I was bold

and I was strong

and I will continue to be so


I am not the victim:

I am the hero,

the giver

and for this reason,

still a receiver.

Maybe not of your love,

but of pride in my own


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