Rose Colored Glasses

I hate the fact that I'm being
immature
by being cautious
and even though I told
you not to bullshit 
me or lead me on-
you still did.
Now I'm backing off
and you're demanding
explanations
and I'm running scared- 
afraid I'll look like
even more of a fool-
and in front of you,
my dream,
my ideal...
I don't know if I can handle it.

I hate the fact that after
I fought so hard to
love my independence-
knowing you for a week
I already feel trapped
by my own isolation...
It bothers me that I'm 
frightened of you...
that I'm even tempted
to be affected by you.
And you do affect me...
I feel better about myself 
when I'm not around to witness
how much you don't want me-
because for a beautiful 
day or two
I thought you did...
And I don't know what happened.
But all I know
now
is that I'm tired...

I'm tired of running,
I'm tired of being scared,
and I'm tired of feeling
so heartbroken
with the knowledge 
that no one could ever
want me
completely as I am...

I may bever feel safe 
to trust again,
and that's fine,
I've always been naive.
I may bever believe praise
again,
but I was getting too vain
as it was.

So, I apologize
for being immature,
but I knew my limitations 
and was up front with you,
and you crossed the line.
You made me feel like
I was special,
and worth something
that maybe everyone can't see...
But the dream faded
like curtains bleached by the sun.

My rose colored glasses broke.