I told myself I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble after his comments,
but I’m just not that strong.
I am tired of being strong, when all I feel is weakness.
I am tired of holding myself up, because I have to “move on”.
I can’t just “move on” from something I spent three years fighting for.
I can’t just “move on” from losing my supposed best friend.
I can’t just become Miss Independent because now you don’t want me.
I’m not going to say now you don’t need me, because we both know you never did.
I am angry at pretenses,
and how I am supposed to act.
I am angry at tears,
because then I am showing what I see as weakness.
And Lord knows,
I’d take a bullet if it meant I was allowed to feel weak.
Because, for whatever reason, I have to be the strong one.
I have to “move on” and know I deserve better.
Don’t you all get it?
Don’t you know trashing him won’t make me a complete person?
Or talking about how you think he’s hooking up with his friend is not consolation?
Not when you loved him for three years.
Not when you did not know him the way I thought I did.
And I’m crazy defending him until the ends of the earth,
and I am crazy falling at his feet,
begging to be enough.
I did not make him happy
I did not give him
I did not give him
I did not love him enough and now,
I am desperate,
I am broken,
crushed rather than bent metal.
Not because I hate him.
But because I loved him.
Because I love him.
And because I can remember how we fit,
because there’s no one else I can imagine myself dancing with,
because his name still lingers to where others try to compensate for his guilt.
And they shouldn’t have to.
He is not a monster,
but a liar.
And that reminds me how much I wanted honesty after being lied to for two and half years,
and how much I wanted this after overcoming everything she put me through,
everything I thought I found in you.
And while I don’t have any respect left,
even if I had some to give,
I know you can still be a man of greatness,
and I know, that even though I have spent this whole day missing whatever the hell it was we had,
there is no chance,
even though I don’t know why I would want a chance for us.
See all this?
This is spawned from one stupid comment.
So next time do me the pleasure of texting me first.
Show me some respect for once.
You owe me that much.