Moving on is so much more difficult now than it was back then. I had gotten almost completely over you (though I’m probably fooling myself when I say that), and then I let you back into my life. A part of me wanted to let you back in anyway, though. My heart left my emotional well-being with reckless abandonment. What disgusts me is that I’m afraid I will let you back in if you ever come back to me again. But you wouldn’t come back, not this time.
You treated me like shit with such conviction that I was starting to believe it myself—that I was shit. That I somehow deserved your neglect. I am nothing more than dirt on your USMC-issued boots. I deserved to be ignored or otherwise written off as crazy and complicated. I deserved to be second choice—either because you knew I would always be here while you pursued other ‘priority’ conquests, or because I am second-rate by nature to you and simply not good enough. I deserve having no response from you, and I deserve no explanation; no, those kinds of things only go to people who evoke your pity and guilty conscience, and you had no sympathy for me. “She can take care of herself, she’s a strong girl. She will be happier without me,” you told yourself, absolving yourself of any responsibility or humanity towards me. Yet other times, I was something to fear, something to apprehend, something to be left alone, something to keep your distance from. Instead of really figuring me out, you assumed things and stuck to those assumptions, solidifying them when I proved them right in the slightest. And so, I deserved to deal with shit on my own. I deserved to be denied your attention and love and vulnerability. I deserved to be disrespected and lied to, because let’s face it, I wasn’t someone you fell in love with; I was an obstacle, a roadblock, a diversion, a difficulty, a test. I could only get the minimum—if even that—from you, and I thought that was the best I was ever going to get from you. Better than nothing, I told myself. You were all I ever wanted. I was going to take anything I could get….
I am learning things I thought I already knew. I am dissolving the boundaries of definitions I had previously cemented; I am dissecting everything I ever thought I knew about love and games and selfishness and manipulation and self-respect and self-worth and maturity and pride and communication and assumptions and what it means to ‘deserve’ something. So, no, this wasn’t all for nothing; I did learn something. I learned about willpower; I learned that when I want something badly enough, I can make it happen, but I cannot make you love me. I learned that if you had really loved me and you really wanted me, you would have been with me. I learned that I should be allowed to get upset at things without having to fear you abandoning me out of finding me too “difficult” or “complicated” or “emotional” (yeah, sorry I went mad when I found out you were cheating on me. How dare I have reactions and question your honesty, that’s crazy!). I learned that if I was really worth it to you, you would have demonstrated it by trying. I learned that actions do speak so much louder than words. I learned that sometimes, you can lie to yourself so much that you just may start believing your own bullshit because you could be that afraid of facing the truth—that you have become the person you hate, that you could be so terrible as to use and mistreat people the way you did me, that you could be so low. You can say all you want that you hate yourself, but if you are okay with the way you are, then you do not hate yourself. You are content. I learned that, sometimes, people really don’t want to improve themselves; a life of being content with familiar mediocrity is appealing to some people, just like how a life of competitive drive and constant improvement and making the most out of what I have appeals to others such as myself.
My confidence was shaken. How could you not want me? I thought I was everything you didn’t even know you were looking for; you certainly were, for me. I wanted to understand and know you, I wanted to treat you right and take care of you and support you through your difficult times and encourage you through your pursuit of your wildest dreams, I wanted to build a relationship and a life with you. I wanted you to know that I was there for you unconditionally, no matter how angry or sad or annoyed you may have made me. We still always laughed with each other, we had incredibly passionate and electrifying sex, we had a great time simply doing nothing, our bodies fit perfectly, and we loved each other… or at least, I loved you. I thought you were my soulmate. Whenever we were together, I wanted to melt my body into yours. I felt ‘complete.’ I could never leave your presence. But I was not enough for you. I was not what you were looking for, and I was never in your plans. And so, I was just as easily discarded from your life as I was first picked up.
I was not the first choice. I should respect that. I will respect you the way you never respected me. I just loved you and wanted to see you happy. If you are happy, then I am happy. If you are happier without me, then as painstaking and bittersweet as it is, I will let you go. No, I will not fight for you, not anymore; I don’t get anything out of it, I never win, and you don’t even acknowledge nor appreciate nor even like it. I think I drive you away when I do that, anyway—perhaps it is a part of your self-loathing. You think of yourself as such an unworthy person that you think anybody who wants you must be crazy, and you get scared that somebody could love you despite all of your flaws. Did you think I didn’t know you were a shitty person? Did you think I didn’t know that you were a hypocritical, indecisive, cowardly, emotionally-confused boy who is afraid to be alone? I knew. I’ve known for a while. I’ve loved you for a while, too.
This has been almost completely a one-sided relationship. It is not needy of me to ask you to reciprocate my efforts even just a little… I would praise you and appreciate you, but of course, you’ve hardly ever seen that, because you’ve hardly ever done anything. It is not clingy of me to ask you to respond within the same day when I talk to you. It is not high-maintenance of me to beseech your reassurance, considering what we had been through in the past. It is not “playing games” on my part when I ask you to be the one to fight for me for a change. It is just the manifestation of the basic human need to feel loved and appreciated and worthy. It is just me wanting to know that I am worth the risk, the fear, the exhilaration.
But that comes from myself. I am worthy. I know my worth; you don’t, and you probably never will, and it is both of our losses.
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- buichopsuey said: PREACH IT. I read this like three times through 3 different social media. ALICE YOU WORTH MORE THAN A POT OF LEPRECHAUN GOLD. <3
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