Trying to process my self and my place in my breakups

In person, I’m a shit storyteller. I don’t organize my life into sequential talking points which hang together. I don’t think about what I’m going to say next or what story to tell. I wait for whomever I’m with to make that conversational gambit. I’ll try to keep up. As long as it’s not about popular TV or celebrities, I’ll have things to say. I suppose that I must be boring after a few months. Having run out of stories and the novelty of having poetry written with them as my muse wears off. I always feel like I’m working to keep them interested long after they would have walked away.

It’s probably a combination of factors. It is incredibly frustrating to only know one side of the reasons or to only be made aware of those things that let me down easy. And, most likely, I should find some way to not lose my heart so easily.

But how do you not fall in love? How do you not see the beauty of their heart, their mind and not fall?
I fear that I will never know. And because of that, I’ll always be wounded or just healed and a step away from falling anew.

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