Honey, he doesn’t care. It’s not him, it’s you. I know it hurts to hear. Don’t cover your ears, it’s important. It’s you, not him. It pierces your heart and shreds it to pieces and the pain is so bad you double over. I know it hurts. Here, drink a little more—yes, that’s good. Another shot, another bottle. The world may be getting blurry, but it dulls the pain. You know that, you’ve been there before. Drink up, baby. You’re almost there.
Put your phone away, sweetheart. He won’t reply—you know that. He is busy, he doesn’t want to, he is with someone else. It could be any of those, but of course, you believe it’s option three. You don’t just believe it, you know it. She’s better than you—skinnier than you, prettier than you, softer than you. I know it hurts. You can look at workout videos tomorrow. Have another sip for now.
Do you want to have a look at that list? You know which one—the one with all the reasons you aren’t enough, the one about how naive you are. I know it’s in your notebook, the one you keep next to your bed for the nights that are darkest. It’s okay, take it out. You’ve had enough, so you can handle it; you can handle the truth. You’ve had too much, so you’ll be breaking down, but don’t be afraid, darling. You know the reasons you aren’t enough by heart, of course you do, but may as well see them in writing. You were smart to write it down, making sure you never confuse things. It’s not him, it’s you. No, no, don’t look at that other list; skip the one about him and about all the reasons you fell for him. Tonight is about you. Read it over. Remind yourself why you aren’t enough. And once more. Does it feel true? You know it is. Oh, you should probably add how you believed he actually could care. Call it ‘delusional’, maybe? Or ‘always dreaming’—that sounds a little nicer. You need a little bit of nice tonight, but don’t ever confuse that with being enough.
It’s time to put that list away, sweetie. Enough of that, enough reminding yourself of all the reasons. Fill up your cup—yes, there you go. Take a big sip; let it burn your throat. Feel that pain? Let it remind you of what happens when you dream. When you believe this time it could be your happily ever after. Let it remind you that fairytales are not for you. They are for the other girls—the pretty, skinny ones. The ones he is with instead of you. For you, fairy tales are just the lies you tell yourself about love. It’s okay—knowing that is good. Maybe next time you’ll learn. Your glass is empty? Honey, you know what to do.
