face the day
It really isn’t you. It’s me. I promise, it’s me.
I couldn’t handle you. I couldn’t handle the pressure of being with you. And there was this competition to win you against everyone else, all the time. You were so prestigious, so coveted. I wanted you for years. I wanted to be in your world for years. To belong to your circle, to walk through your network, be part of your people. But I couldn’t. I can’t. I won’t. Anymore.
I cried because I didn’t understand you. I cried everyday. And you offered no comfort in return. There was no sympathy on your end. You were cold and distant and disregarding. But it still isn’t you. I should have been able to handle it. Everyone else seemed strong and capable, except me. Others could understand you, be with you whenever they wanted. And they wanted you always. And I never measured up.
I loved you, I swear. I looked up to all that you were, and all that you could give me, if I kept my part of the deal: if I took it slow. If I listened. If I paid attention. But I didn’t, and wouldn’t, and still can’t.
I’m leaving now. I wish I could promise you a return. I wish I could tell you that I loved you still. But I hate you more than anything. I’d rather be nothing than to be with you. It’s not like you care, really. You’ll still have everyone else. What’s one lost?
- http://pinktextbooks.wordpress.com/
- unreal.
I couldn’t handle you. I couldn’t handle the pressure of being with you. And there was this competition to win you against everyone else, all the time. You were so prestigious, so coveted. I wanted you for years. I wanted to be in your world for years. To belong to your circle, to walk through your network, be part of your people. But I couldn’t. I can’t. I won’t. Anymore.
I cried because I didn’t understand you. I cried everyday. And you offered no comfort in return. There was no sympathy on your end. You were cold and distant and disregarding. But it still isn’t you. I should have been able to handle it. Everyone else seemed strong and capable, except me. Others could understand you, be with you whenever they wanted. And they wanted you always. And I never measured up.
I loved you, I swear. I looked up to all that you were, and all that you could give me, if I kept my part of the deal: if I took it slow. If I listened. If I paid attention. But I didn’t, and wouldn’t, and still can’t.
I’m leaving now. I wish I could promise you a return. I wish I could tell you that I loved you still. But I hate you more than anything. I’d rather be nothing than to be with you. It’s not like you care, really. You’ll still have everyone else. What’s one lost?
- http://pinktextbooks.wordpress.com/
- unreal.