Silly Girl

In love, I am someone else. I live and breathe and die for them. I want this for myself as well, though I never receive it. I think to myself that it must be possible. It must exist- because I exist. If I am real, can there not be someone else like me?

I can’t feel bad that I let you go.

You were gonna kill me if I didn’t go.

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry

I guess I feel as though there must have been a way for me to control things, and that when something terrible happens- it must mean I failed.

And so I punish that frail failure with words, thoughts, and actions.

My mind attacks my heart,”You let this happen to us.”

You don’t know this, but I’m finally done. You won’t care, I know. I know you so well, because you are me in every way that I am terrible and cruel and uninterested.

I wanted your love so bad, was so desperate for it. I think you being emotionally unavailable only served for me to want you more.

“If I can get him to love me back, it means I’m worth something. If I can have his attention, I can distract myself from the terror in my head.”

And you are so far away, but I’d have gone the distance for you. I’d have given this life up and made a new one with you. From Georgia to North Carolina.

Silly thoughts from a silly girl who just wanted an escape. Just wanted love.

I really have to thank you, too. I learned a lot about myself and the way I treat people through you. So many realizations.

I want to do better, now. I want to be better, to feel better. To choose better for myself, and for that I have to be done with you.

It’s funny how learning about someone else’s “Germany” made me realize how terrible mine was for me. Watching him make what I feel to be such a foolish mistake? It was like looking in a mirror.

So. I’m saying goodbye to you in every form that I know you.

I’m not, I’m really not, you know. Anger does not come easily to me, though sadness does. My sadness is a sorrowful thing.

I reserve the terrible wailing for myself. There is no one I’m more angry with than myself. No one I hate more. Maybe that’s why I just don’t have room for hating anyone else.

What I feel for you is not hatred, and was never love. I think I saw an understanding in you. Common ground that I’d never seen before. Something bright breaking through dark clouds. Something that resembled myself.

Sometimes it crosses my mind, if you happened upon me here- would you recognize me?