I’m Okay With Not Being The One


I had a few shots tonight. Maybe three, four—not that it matters. Not that anything that I do ever really matters to you.

When you’re in an almost relationship, it’s hard to tell where the “almost” ends and the “relationship” begins. It’s like being committed to a never ending loop. I think I’ve written us over and over again, but somehow it never feels like a final draft.

I never asked anything of you. I never expected you to be my knight in a shining armor. But never had I thought that you’d be so careless when it came to me. I’ve had enough careless people in my life to know exactly when someone is being truly genuine towards me. I delivered my heart to you on a silver platter, thinking you’d keep it safe, when all you really did was let it slip.

I’d be lying if I said that healing from you won’t hurt. And the hardest part is healing from something that you never even fully understood. Were we friends with benefits? Were you ever close from loving me? Were the drunk words that you spilled quite often just because you had too many to think straight? What was it that kept you around me for so long? Was sex what prevented you from breaking up sooner?

You break my heart constantly into a million pieces and I let you do it. Not because I can’t go on without you, but because (most of the time) I choose not to.

Actually, I think that deep down you know you have to let me go, but at the same time you’re so attached to the idea of me being your perfect idea of a flawless girlfriend (for whenever you feel “ready”) that it actually stops you from seeing that you couldn’t care less. Or even how much you take without giving. I’m pretty sure that you don’t even know how it feels to wholeheartedly be there for someone.

You have priorities. Friends. Work. Plans. Trips. Me? I’m a passenger. I’m here only to fulfill fleeting moments of highs, needs, and passion.

My unwavering commitment never met your weak excuses. My canceled plans just to see you never really met your crowded schedule.

Truth be told, I think that you’re a liar. You lie to me and the others before just because you can’t handle seeing what’s in front of you.

I understand you—it is much easier to look past someone that has your back than to give a second thought to a relationship that kept you satisfied for so long.

Since I’m being crystal clear, wearing my heart on my sleeve is my biggest trait, but for my own sake, I tried my best not to deliver any unrealistic expectations to you.

But even so, when you’re in each other’s faces all the time, it makes it so much easier to fall in love without even noticing.

So I guess I’m sorry that you only wanted me for the highs. I loved you with your flaws, pet peeves, and funny habits. I’m also sorry that you couldn’t find enough reasons to choose me, to stay and to walk with me.

I am not going to apologize for feeling. And I wish you wouldn’t either.