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Maybe You Never Even Cared About Me

Photo by McKinley Law on Unsplash

Photo by McKinley Law on Unsplash

I shouldn't have convince you to stay. I shouldn't have to convince you to like me for me. I shouldn't have to convince you that I'm enough–yet I'm trying. I keep finding myself trying to prove who I am to you over and over, and it's not fair. I keep trying to show you I'm enough for you and it still never feels good enough. 

I can't convince you to care about me the way I care about you, and I shouldn't have to. 

I can feel you pushing me further and further away because you can't believe this is real. You haven't had someone care about you the way I do; you haven't had someone want the best for you like I do and that's scary for you because you're so used to everyone leaving, or only being there when it's convenient for them. Looking something real in the face is terrifying, I know that. 

I want to be there like no one's been there for you before – through the good times and the bad, but you have to let me. 

You have to want me to be there though and I'm not convinced you really do, but I still can't get myself to walk away just yet.

Maybe I'm just making this all up; maybe it's my way of handling rejection from you and pretending that we could still have something real if I can only get you to stick around long enough to miss me when I'm gone. Maybe it's my way of being guarded – just convincing myself you'll leave and you'll never be able to love me. Maybe I pushed my way into your life and you never really wanted me there in the first place. Maybe I dissected your words and let your hands on my body trick my mind into thinking we could be something more. Maybe you never even cared about me, maybe it was all in my head.

Maybe I only stick around because I want to feel needed and I want to believe I can "fix" you. Maybe I stay because now that you've been there, even if it's only partially, I don't want to go back to being alone. Or living without you. 

But when I sit there with you I never feel good enough; I never feel like I matter to you and maybe that's because I don't. 

I crave your touch and your attention so much that I completely disregard everything I believe in because I'd rather have you partially in my life than not at all, even though I know how toxic that is. 

The only thing I'm sure of is that I'm left holding on to nothing but the words you let slip off your tongue when you're lonely and I fall for them – like a fool – because deep down I know you don't care about me and to be honest, I don't think you ever really did, yet I'm still here, just hoping.