I am not this person, that is you.

I am not this person, that is you.

I am not this person, that is you.

You know, I’m actually glad you’re finally doing something, even though your motivation for it reeks of showing ‘the world’ (read: me) that I was the reason why you didn’t before. You were the reason why you didn’t. And you are the reason why you do now. But if you think, for one second, that maybe another girl is creating this space for you or is going to or has to, you’ll lose all your pretty efforts like snow for the sun when she makes you feel bad, one inevitable day.

I have always been supportive of you, and you know this, so a stalkerish ‘like’ on facebook from your stalkerish ‘couldn’t compute’ rebound ex, or the many others that followed or are following, really, come on. If that is really satisfactory, then by all means, get successful, I sure as hell have my doubts of the duration of the high of it though.

I know you miss me, it’s not out of false pretenses, it’s not out of self-deluding grandeur, I know this because I miss you, and you were, in every aspect, wrong about so many deeper as well as superficial aspects about how to treat another human being , so why wouldn’t YOU miss ME if I always gave you the benefit of the doubt? Even long after many of your shenanigan nights out.

I should’ve walked very early on in our relationship because we were never alone. Not in the mind or in the flesh, your ex’es, your ‘best’ lady friends, the undeserving bitchiness I got from the mother of your child, your dead previous girlfriend who was however bigger than life and your ever growing emotional cheating. And basically, because I had to play second fiddle one time too many, even in our early days and that’s just damn disrespectful and I shouldn’t have been blind for it, just because I wanted love so bad.

NONE of those aspects have I put you through, however I DID put you in front of a heart-wrenching mirror and that’s why you ‘hate’ me or can’t be in contact with me (of course and foremost because I DON’T WANT TO first of all, NOT the other way around) Because I tried to love myself equally as I loved you, and those two things didn’t rhyme well.

I have nothing to feel guilty about, especially since you never had a yota to offer in that department yourself.

I did, and had to do, what any self respecting person with an inch of boundaries would have done, I ran.

Not because I didn’t love you, not because I didn’t envision a future, not because I was lazy and not because anybody else pushed me, I ran because you tore my heart apart, you tore my future apart, you tore my sense of self apart, you insulted me, called me names when I stood up for myself, you emotionally devoured me, broke down my whole personality to save your own, you told me half truths and played with my feelings just so I would stop seeing the wood for the trees.

That was all your doing.

So please, be my guest at becoming a better person, it will only serve the world a whole lot of heartbreak.

Damn pity though, it was so dearly at my expense and i still suffer every day to grab the pieces of what I once called ‘me’ of so many floors, I don’t know which one to pick up first. My love for you was so misplaced, you left me so lonely and lonesome for myself, I have much more work to do than you ever will because I acknowledge the fact that this pain is of my own doing. I chose to be with you, even after the first boundary-bust, from there on I have to look inside myself what made me love myself, respect and appreciate myself so little that I let you sobbing your way back only to leave me in the mist of sadness all over again. My last run was short and fast.

No matter how hard you try to prove that you’re everything you promise somebody to be, I will always remember you the way you were with me.

I have to live with that and it breaks my heart still.

But I am not that person, that is you.

1 Comment

  1. Ps 6 years ago

    I will actively try but I really fucked myself up. I wanted you but I had no right. I keep moving forward but Im giving up on love as my punishment

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