I Don’t Have A Goddamn Clue Why I Still Like You

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Why do I keep putting you on a pedestal when I know the truth about you? There’s no reason to build you up in my mind, because I already know the reality. You’re just another guy. A guy that’s hurt me and will hurt me again if I give you the chance. I don’t know why I keep pretending that you’re anything more than a tool that can shatter my heart.

Why do I miss you? And what exactly do I miss? The mixed signals? The unanswered texts? The drop in confidence? When you were around, I questioned everything about myself, from my beauty to my sanity. So I should be happy that you’re gone. Thrilled, even. But I’m not.

Why do I keep checking my texts, foolishly searching for your name, when there’s no indication that you’re going to be contacting me? When I have absolutely no reason to believe that you’re going to blow up my phone and invite me over so we can kickstart our love story?

Why do I keep daydreaming about you, creating potential scenarios in my head, when I know that none of them are going to play out the way I want them to? When I know that, even if I bump into you later today or tomorrow, you’re going to end up disappointing me? You won’t hold me in your arms and express your regret for all our missed opportunities. If I’m lucky, you’ll give me an awkward hug and then go on with your day while I’m stuck thinking of you.

Why do I torture myself? Why do I purposely listen to songs that remind me of you? Why do I check your Facebook when I know I’m not going to like what I see? Why do I stare at the Instagram photos that I know are going to push me deeper into my obsession with you?

Why do I keep wondering what kind of relationship we would’ve had if things worked out differently? Even if it was possible to change our past, things wouldn’t have worked out differently. This was the only way it could’ve happened. I don’t know why I keep creating parallel universes in my head. They’re just fantasies. Impossible, unobtainable fantasies.

Why do I still think about you, even though I know you’re not thinking about me? Why do I waste my time wondering what you’re up to when I know exactly what you’re up to–or at least who you’re with. A girl who isn’t me. A girl who has everything I wish I had.

Why do I still want you? After everything you’ve done to me, after all of the tears provoked by you, why am I still drawn to you? What kind of idiot would want to date someone who treated her the way you treated me? What the hell is wrong with me?

Why don’t I realize what I deserve? If I had any semblance of self-confidence or self-worth, then I’d wait for someone better than you. And from now on, that’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to let you go and search for someone different. Someone new. Someone that’s nothing like you.