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Some people don't want to lose you, but they also don't choose you. Not because they're confused. But because choosing you would require effort they don't want to give.

They don't want you to move on, but they won't step up. They don't want to see you with someone else, but they refuse to give you clarity.

They want the comfort of knowing you're there without the responsibility of actually showing up.

They keep you close enough to feel wanted but far enough to avoid commitment. They give just enough to keep you hoping but never enough to actually be yours.

And they don't want to be the bad guy.

So they never say it directly. They just let you wait. Let you wonder. Let you figure it out on your own so they never have to take the blame.

That's not love. That's convenience.

They’re using your loyalty to avoid making a decision. Stop waiting for someone to choose you. If they wanted to, they already would have.

Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you? Don’t you take it awful hard ‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I’ve got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.