Losing Myself In You Helped Me Find My Strength Again
I think a lot about you – about us. Sometimes I can't stand the silence in the house. I think about texting you, telling you I miss you but I know better because while my mind is still hung up on you, you've already moved on – if you ever even had to try to get over me in the first place.
Instead I scroll and scroll and scroll. Last night I noticed an old friend who screwed me over unfollowed me on social media and I don't know why that hurt as much as it did. But it sucked. And it hurt me enough to distract me from you – at least temporarily. In a way it felt good to not have you weighing on my mind – freeing, essentially.
Sometimes when I start feeling low I think about asking you to come back, asking you to stay this time but I know you can't make someone stay. And asking you to stay is just prolonging your inevitable leaving because even if you temporarily stay out of guilt now, you'll still eventually leave. You won't be any more loyal, or happier – neither of us would be. Prolonging your leaving won't make the pain I'm feeling disappear and it won't make walking away any easier. It will still hurt because you can't force someone to love you.
I could try over and over again to prove to you how much I care, how serious about you I am, how much I actually give a shit about you but it wouldn't matter to you because I'm not enough for you. I'm not enough because your front door is revolving with different girls walking through different nights of the week. And the disgusting part is, they probably don't know any better. But you do. And I do. And as much as it hurt me that's why I had to walk away.
I couldn't be another girl on your list; it hurt too much the first time you did it that after the second and third time I knew enough was enough. I knew I couldn't convince you I was enough. I knew I couldn't make you want me more than them because you needed all of us while all of us probably only needed you.
In losing myself in you I also found my strength again.
My heart is not a door, you can't keep coming and going whenever you please. My legs are not meant to spread at your convenience when you tell me you want me. My head is not there for you to play games with and ask for things from me whenever you feel like it.
I wasn't put on this earth to please you and I'm done trying.
I think about you, about telling you I miss you but I know it's only because I get lonely and your memory still lingers like the smell of bleach after you scrub all the filth away. I know I deserve better than someone like you. I know I don't deserve the endless amount of shit you put me through and I'm finally glad I'm done going back to you.
My heart deserves to be loved for the tenderness it consists of, not taken advantage of by someone who thinks my kindness is a weakness – you reminded me of that. But I'll never thank you for it because that's giving you too much credit for what I found on my own.