Love, lust, happiness…Passionate, Affectionate, Ambitious… All about you, All about me, All about us.. Isn’t that how every great love story starts? Being born in the 90s means “prince-charming” and “happily ever after”.
You were my savior, the older man I was longing for because I always felt wiser beyond my years. Not sure if it was young ignorance or if it was just you. You disguised your lack of ambition with smooth words and materialistic things. But when the materialism faded and your life changed WHY DIDN’T YOU TRUST ME TO BE THERE? WHY WASN’T I ENOUGH? You lied with such finesse, those smooth words returned because she was with child. Do you think I’m stupid?
Stupid, Ugly, Worthless- “no one will ever want you like I do, no one will ever LOVE you like I do. ” You pounded your failures in my psyche “You’ll never graduate high school!” You pounded your guilt in my psyche- “You can’t have male friends, you’re having sex with him”. The more I loved you, the less I loved me, the less I valued myself. I believed your every word , I believed.
I believed that my knight and shining armor was somewhere, for I was distressed. Broken, worthless, hurt and I needed to be rescued. You rescued me, through my insecurities, through my flaws, through my pain. Things changed because we needed to grow up, we had to make hard decisions. We were working on progression and success and you allowed her to let our foundation crumble. It was so easy…
Easy loving you. I want the world for you because you are my world. Patiently waited for “girlfriend” because a title doesn’t mean you don’t love me. I almost died the night you finally said it. And I never heard it again. I set myself free because I knew fate had you in my “happily ever after”. I knew that what should be, would be only to read via text “I don’t feel the same way, I knew this was something we needed to talk about.”
“Nothing was easy and sometimes she failed and sometimes she thought that fairy tale stories were right, that there must indeed be easier ways of living happily ever after; but defeat is a poor ending to any tale, so she kept trying.”-Sonya Hartnett