Because I loved you, and maybe I do,

I sat with you when you got angry.

Because I loved you, and maybe I do,

I held your hand and told you to take deep breaths.

Because I loved you, and maybe I do,

I helped you stumble into bed night after night and brushed your hair back as you wretched.

Because I loved you, and maybe I do,

I tended to your wounds after fights like a nurse.

Because I loved you, and maybe I do,

I bandaged myself discretely after you took your anger out on me and then crawled into your arms.

Because I loved you, and maybe I do,

I tried to get help for you-- and for me.

Because I loved you, and maybe I do,

I complied when you didn't want it. 

Because I loved you, and maybe I do,

I let you pressure me into things I didn't want.

Because I loved you, and maybe I do,

I ignored all the signs.

 

But, because of a new-found love for me,

I have learned that I might love you less than before.

 

Because I love me, and maybe I do,

I'll have to leave the love I once held.

Because I love me, and maybe I do,

I will hold my head up high.

Because I love me, and maybe I do,

I will get help, with or without your permission. 

Because I love me, and maybe I do,

I will speak out.

Because I love me, and maybe I do,

I will not be afraid of the monsters that once lurked over my shoulder. 

Because I love me, and maybe I do,

I will find a way to start over and love myself, not just maybe. Completely.