I thought about past lovers
and how each one led me
to where I am now.
I lined them all up
in a row like dominoes
to see how they caused my collapse.
The first, my first everything,
how I never measured to your friends,
and it ruined us.
I see myself trying to find
someone resembling you;
you are the barometer
for all my relationships.
The second, a flashback from former days,
a mistake as I would later call it,
a pathological liar I unwittingly trusted.
The third, a work fling,
the beginning of my sexual awakening,
he was the first who taught me
how it was to be used.
The fourth, my saving grace,
the one and only to say I love you,
a sweetheart but a mismatch.
The hardest breakup I experienced,
a lie by omission I couldn't forgive.
Now to the second mistake,
the one that swept me off my feet
then swept me under the rug.
Then to my second fling,
the one-time romp and to dozens
of discussions of future meetups
that never transpired.
Next to the one that changed everything,
the one that knew me well
and found merit in me,
but valued our platonic friendship more.
The week of joy that led to a year of sadness,
a year of wondering why everything changed,
and our friendship had died.
Onto the nice guy with an anger problem,
the one I wasn't going to date
but somehow wooed me with
his response to my rejection.
Never showed him my true self,
we pretended to be lovers,
but it never felt genuine.
And the one, who broke me in two.
The one who sent me down a spiral.
The one who's rejection
I could not recover from.
And the one who I used
to help me forget that pain,
the one who opened the floodgates
of my wanton desire.
Then all the one-night stands
not worth mentioning
but the one that turned
into a father-figure.
The one who talked me out of mistakes,
or sometimes just tried to
but still wanted me for himself.
And all of them,
stacked next to each other,
in a neat little row.
The flick of a finger,
and they all fell down.
Now here I am trying to rebuild myself
one tile at a time.