Important

Sunday, January 28, 2018

4

Sorry that I'm not good enough to even qualify as a friends.

Sorry that I am untrustworthy enough that I don't deserve to be into any aspect of your life - even a FUCKING Facebook account. Sorry, did you think on your feed, I would mention that I've seen your cock. Is that honestly how little you think of me?

Sorry that I thought I would ever stop hoping you would treat me as less of a person, just because of my feelings and willingness to put up with your bullshit.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I am a fucking terrible person, so why would you want to be friends?

I am so untrustworthy, so why continue any of this?

If I am so naive, why do you act like I don't know I'm only a thing. Not a real person, not like your pretty girlfriend. She's younger right? But more worldly that I am, and probably smarter, too.

She seems like a truly kind person with a beautiful soul to match her outer beauty. I've had many people tell me that she must be a bad person, but I don't believe that. Why should I even give it a thought?

Because the reason I really am sorry is that you chose the path of least resistance. You never would have fought for me. You never would have introduced me to a single person you know. You would have never had to feel embarrassed if someone asked how we met.

You coward.

I would have done it all. Dropped everything and moved to another continent to be with you. Would have made you my #1 priority. I Would have loved you with a passion that can't be fathomed.

I've made my own mistakes, too. They are part of who I am, and now my mind has this fear that everyone in my life will leave me behind. So I get scared. And then I talk, not shut the fuck up like I should, but instead run my mouth and get deeper into trouble.

All those words are just fear. One fear.

You don't love me.

And you won't. You never will. You've seen two sides of me and decided that's enough. You don't want to meet me because that would destroy your fantasy that I am not a real person.

It's fine. There is literally no physical quality that I posses of which the "person you are seeing" has better. I am what I am - a woman who has given birth twice, with stretch marks and a sagging stomach. Breasts that haven't looked good in fifteen years. Cellulite - and the worst? Of course I am not 29, no one believes that, but to say 36.... that sounds so old. Because it is old. She is a young beauty with her whole life ahead -  and I am the useless parent of two boys, who is alone and unhappy, no matter what my Instagram pretends.

There's always a moment, when I think things might be coming together, but that's not the case. I need to cut cords NOW and accept the fact that I am  as I have been - unloved.

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