Take my feelings. Burn them until they turn into ashes and scatter into the wind. Maybe, by doing that, I will make room in my heart to feel something other than pain. I want to feel nothing, yearn for no one, and forget the last six years happened. I want my life back, the way it was before you turned it upside down.
Take my feelings. Lock them in a vault to which I don’t know the code. Suppress my emotions and leave me empty inside. It is far better than the gut wrenching burden I carry of loving someone who will always keep me waiting, of loving someone who will always keep me as a safety net, of loving someone who says he says loves me back but does all the opposite things to me.
Take my feelings. Throw them in the sea and let them settle into the deepest, darkest trenches. Take them to the point of no return, where all things go to die. Maybe then I can be happy and contented with my miserable and pathetic existence. Maybe then I won’t care. Maybe then I’ll be dead inside. And isn’t that better than being a former lover who can’t move on?
Take my feelings. Send them up, in a rocket, and straight into a black hole. My feelings have done nothing but cause me grief, false hope, and pull me into an unending cycle of living in the past. I cannot live in the past anymore. I cannot keep dreaming of simpler times and happy endings. I am too tainted to believe in those, and I am too cynical to believe in the sincerity of love. Take my feelings with you and destroy them. Smash them until I can no longer feel happiness or sadness, until there is only apathy, until there is only indifference.
Take my feelings. Leave me alone with my thoughts and my anger. Let my wrath fuel my drive to get away from all of this, from the bittersweet way we’ve ended, from all the memories of you.