Paris was thrown away.

I leave for one second. Let down my guard for one minute. I am happy for once in my pathetic life, and you go and throw it all away. Like it was some piece of trash that nobody wanted to have anymore. 

And here you are acting like it means nothing to me. 

Like what you did won't affect me in a few days, a few weeks, or a few lifetimes.

I am hungry for what you threw away. And now I have no hope of ever getting it back, because what you threw away is now contaminated and unusable like every piece of trash in that sad cold tin can I call my heart. 

I thought you cared. I thought you cared about me. But I was wrong, oh was I wrong. You did this to me without it even crossing your mind that you would leave me scarred and broken like my right wrist after having supported too much weight. 

Oh how I wish that someday you would make it up to me, to want what we had again, for it to be not replaceable. I just want you to care again. Please. Do it for me.