Life is too short to spend it being broken
ultimately
fooling only you
making excuses,
it seems i’m clueless
that I refuse to see the choices
that you make
the time that you take
and the only heart
that’s breaking is mine
inside,
sometimes
I dream about you changing,
being all that I made you and more.
instead every night I cry,
trying to resist the urge to
write ranting angry poems
about what a complete asshole you are.
But life is too short,
and trees too precious
even for the electronic tapping of keys
to get frustrated words out.
Life is short to be broken and bitter
making excuses
and justifications for why you are
the way you are.
It’s exhausting
thinking about what I want and can’t have,
it’s 10pm
and i’m waiting up for you,
forgetting all my rules
and declarations
hoping that you’d be the man
I love
and show up,
but life’s too short…
Chaotically Beautiful 
You can only expect people to be who they are at their core, from personal experience that is.
And next time, write, take advantage and don’t refuse that outlet; but I do get the point you were making though.
Thanks dear will take the advice