I thought I would feel better after deleting you from my life. I don’t.
I thought I needed closure. I didn’t.
There will always be the million insecurities you left behind. There will always be the hurt from knowing that I wasn’t enough for you; that despite being your first and everything, I wasn’t enough for you to try for. That in some way, she’s better than me because you’ve known her for like a hundred days and already she’s changed everything about you.
But this isn’t a love letter anymore. This isn’t a broken hearted rant and this isn’t about you. it’s about me. Me trying to make sense of something the only way I know how.
I want to blame you because blaming you is easier than acknowledging defeat. It’s easier to ask and question and accept that you belittled me than to simply accept that sometimes, you can love someone, or they can love you, but it simply isn’t enough. It’s easier to rage and yell than to accept that you simply weren’t what they wanted in the long run. It’s easier than admitting defeat, because that is what it is. There are probably a million philosophical answers, but right now, in this moment, all I can think is that she’s prettier than me. Skinnier than me. Smarter than me. That your mom will like her more.
These things may or may not be true, but I’m done asking, and I’m done doubting myself, and I’m done because I love you and I loved you in a way that you will never be loved again, but I’m done. Done, done, done!
You took a part of me that was broken and you healed me. You took a part of me that was whole and you broke me. You took, and that’s what I realized, throughout the whole relationship, that’s all you’ve ever done. You may have loved me, but your love was destructive. Maybe she hurt you, maybe I burt him, maybe this is karma, but these things I’ll never know
I believe that someday, I’ll look back and not feel like pang anymore, but right now, it hurts like hell, and right now, all I can say is that I hate you because I still love you and I love you different than I love him, but he’s good for me, and for the first time in my life, I see things for the way they’re supposed to be. That future that you painted into my skin is gone and I have to believe that someday, after enough time has passed without you in my life, I will look back without regret, but right now, in this moment, I don’t have the emotional maturity or adult-like capability to let you go.
I thought I would feel better after deleting you, but I don’t.
I thought I needed closure, but I didn’t.
I thought I was over feeling anything for you, but I’m not.
I am angry. I feel betrayed. Above all, I’m thankful.
You may not have said it out loud, but your actions spoke louder than all the beautiful words you spew, and I’ve learnt that after enough time has passed, you see things for what they really are.
I loved you and you loved me but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough. You weren’t enough but this realization is.
And I wish you well. I wish you luck, I wish you dead, I wish you everything you ever wanted. I wish you the best of both negative and good and maybe someday, I’ll be OK with the idea of you again, but for right now, I need you gone gone and I thought I would feel better, and in a way, I kind of do.