Right Kind of Wrong

Two wrongs don't make a right.

They aren't supposed to.

It felt right, being with you.

I believed it was right.

You told me it was.

Hope blurred my vision.

Hope saw the best in you.

Hope carried me when you wouldn't.

Now, hope has me moving on.

The grief and the anger I feel is unreal.

I am still appalled and confused.

The past 9 years has been playing in my mind on an endless loop.

And I can't change the fucking channel.

Sometimes I feel deep sorrow as it plays.

Mostly, I feel foolish.

I let you in.

I let you trample all over me.

I let you tear me down.

I let you shrink my confidence.

I let you use me.

But I will be better because of you.

You've taught me that I am worth more.

And that I am strong.

And a badass.

Looking back, it was always wrong.

And two wrongs don't make a right.

Except we did.