love left overs

Good Bye, my love! Such an apocryphal story we lived. My butch defense met your see through wall. We bumped hardies and both picked up pieces of our failed game. And baby, what a game!
3 years ago I played my field with a strippologist approach. I was Sylvia, the stripper who loved more than one man at a time. I had L and M and occasionally V, a millionaire from Australia who also helped pay bills and gave me rides in his chauffeur driven Bentley. They all knew I wasn't marriage material and yet they all put their hearts on the altar of love for Sylvia. Unconditionally. Indefinitely. Absolutely. Sylvia forgot how to love, in the process.
Then you came along. Emotionally unavailable, or as you say, you built up a wall of insensitivity to me. You told me I scared you. Fear. Such a beautiful concept in the context of my life before love. I was a tyrant. I knew the power of fear. I didn't know how to make it go away. I wasn't even aware of it, until you told me I scared you.
3 years ago you played your field with a bull in heat approach, fucking everything that moved. That's how you met K, whom you now despise and don't want to forgive while you ask me to forgive you. You loved K once, remember?
Well, my love, a funny thing happened: our love became a thief. Secretive and on the run.
I broke my butch defense and you broke your glass wall. Stop trying to bring it back up. There's no more fear for you to feel. I don't want to harm you. Sylvia is tired. Sylvia will say good bye to you. Go and live your life and be happy.
Good Bye!