#weirdlypersonal

When I first met you, I just didn't really care much. People were nothing if not disappointing, however you exceeded my expectations, or so I thought. I can't say I've ever had anybody "give" as much as you did to me, it's something I truly always thought I didn't deserve. You seemed so intrigued by me when I was doing little to nothing to capture your attention. I have to admit, I stupidly let down my walls. I began to reciprocate the feelings that you said you had and continued to show. Your every word astounded me and I must once again admit I was a captive audience. From that point on you were nothing but a gentlemen. You'd even beg for my attention when I was too scared to give it to you, too scared that I'd become attached. I even shared these fears with you: too scared to get hurt, too cracked to be broken again, too afraid to give myself. Yet, you'd beg anyways and I eventually gave it to you. I gave you my time and attention and just to add insult to injury I have given you the money I earned during fifteen hours of work. Hell, I even gave you the satisfaction of falling for your lies and told you things that I hold sacred. You'd told me you had been hurt, I empathized, but I never thought you'd use me how others have used you. The difference between the way I treated you and the way you treated me is that I meant it. When you broke it off, it was random and uncalled for. Surely there had to be another reason or an explanation for such a sudden change of direction. I was hurt. You had your reasons though and eventually I believed those too. I took in every lie you preached. I even decided to walk away from this situation somehow feeling like a better person just because I had known you. I decided to work on myself and thought that we'd either work out or both find something better. But, either way I decided to remember my time with you fondly.