You are not my sun

You see, the problem is I have treated you as if you are the sun. And you are not the sun. My life does not depend on you, you are not in any way crucial to my survival. Without you, my lungs will still fill with air and my heart will still speed up when things excite me, and my palms will still sweat when I give a speech and all eyes are on me. Without you I will continue to laugh when things are funny and I will still cry during sappy commercials. My hands will still shake in a room full on people and I will still hold my tongue to the side when I am focusing on a painting and I will still talk with my hands when words alone can't show the passion I am feeling. When you cease to exist earth will still spin, babies will continue to be born, people will lose their mothers and couples will get married and there will still be oxygen and water and wars over oil. I am not a planet and you are not the sun and I will not die without you there to hold me in your orbit. My existence does not depend on you, you are not the life that runs through my veins, you are not my sun.

This poem is about: 
Me

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