“I will tell you about selfish people. Even when they know they will hurt you they walk in to your life to taste you because you are the type of being they don’t want to miss out on. You are too much shine to not be felt. So when they have gotten a good look at everything you have to offer. When they have taken your skin, your hair and your secrets with them. When they realise how real this is. How much of a storm you are and it hits them. That is when the cowardice sets in. That is when the person you thought they were is replaced by the sad reality of what they are. This is when they lose every fighting bone in their body and leave after saying you will find better than me, you will stand there naked with half of them still hidden somewhere inside of you and sob, asking why they did it. Why they forced you to love them when they had no intention of loving you back and they’ll say something along the lines of I just had to try, I had to give it a chance, it was you after all. But that isn’t romantic. It isn’t sweet. The idea that they were so engulfed by your existence they had to risk breaking it for the sake of knowing they weren’t the one missing out. Your existence meant that little next to their curiosity of you. That is the thing about selfish people, they gamble entire beings, entire souls to please their own. One second they are holding you like the world and the next they have belittled you to a mere picture, a moment, something of the past. One second, they swallow you up and whisper they want to spend the rest of their life with you but the moment they sense fear, they are already halfway out of the door. Without having the nerve to let go of you with grace, as if the human heart means that little to them. And after all this. After all of the taking. The nerve. Isn’t it sad and funny how people have more guts these days to undress you with their fingers than they do to pick up the phone and call. Apologise. For the loss. And this is how you lose her.”
The worst part of it all is that I still desperately want someone who never wanted me. I sit here and I want him. And I just sit and wonder why I was never actually good enough for him in the first place.
So here we are about to become strangers once again. Or maybe that’s all we ever were? Because do you know what it’s like to love someone who gives nothing in return? And do you know how it feels to crave a body made of steel? It’s like I am giving everything I have and getting nothing in return.
I feel like I am running marathons for him whilst he is standing still. Because I’d be anything for him. Anything. And I still wouldn’t quite fit what he wanted. I wouldn’t quite be good enough.
Whilst I was spending too much time thinking about how good he was, how amazing everything he did was. I forgot about myself and my own excellence. My thoughts are consumed by him. And I’m not sure if I am in his at all.
I’m only his everything when he feels alone. I feel like I am irrelevant. He would be fine without me. He just wants me when he feels alone. And who the hell is he, for the hell he put me through. A monster. But here I am still defending him.
Oh god. I am so vulnerable. And I know that if he ever came back to me, my new found strength would crumble. How if he came back to me every single awful thing he had ever done would be thrown out of the nearest window and all my love would rise up again. It would pour out from my eyes, my ears, my mouth like it had never really left in the first place. As if my love for him had been practising being quiet for so long just so it could be this loud on his arrival.
Can someone explain that to me? Why even when love leaves; It doesn’t actually leave. How even when I am past him; I am so helplessly dragged back to him in an instant.
I feel like I him given so much of myself that I am empty. I gave and gave until I had given everything, until I was empty, until he left. And here I am living my life waiting for him to realise he can’t live his without me. But realisations don’t work like that. And he is perfectly fine without me whilst I am shattered.
I will always jump hoping he will catch me when I fall. And he never will. Because he never looked at me the way I looked at him. And I was never etched in to his heart like he is burned in to mine.
I think now that I will constantly be running around in circles, between wanting him to want me and wondering why I can’t be okay without him. Because now I feel like I am hard to love. And I am terrified that that might be true after all.
If only I didn’t feel so stupid. So foolish that I could actually think that we could have worked out. So ridiculous for believing that he might feel the same way.
So tell me. Why do I feel so scared that I’m not beautiful? That I will never be good enough for anyone? Because I spend so much time wondering why I am so broken whilst he is fine. Wondering if there is anything I can do to make him stop and think wow she looks beautiful.
But anyway. The worst part is that here I am writing this, thinking of him. And he is probably sleeping. Which is something I haven’t been able to do properly in weeks now.
Take care and try not to worry too much,