Thank You To The Girl Who Loved You When I Couldn’t


I’m Priscilla

I hated you.

I called you names.

I told myself you were needy, high-maintenance and horrible in bed.

I told myself you were the girl he settled with while he got “good enough” for me.

But you’re more like me than I ever imagined… and truth be told, I can’t thank you enough.

Thank you for being vulnerable and honest in a way that showed him you cared. Thank you for being demanding and pushy, in a way that made him step up. Thank you for loving him when I couldn’t.

When we broke up, I knew it was for the best. But I also knew it was temporary. Both of us had just gone through a huge life transition, and ended up in places neither of us wanted to be. We began to take it out on each other, speaking only to complain, letting each other’s standards wilt.

We needed to be apart. But I didn’t think we needed to be with other people. For me, at least, my heart had no room for anyone else. I had a haunting feeling of certainty that we’d end up together, and I lingered on that hope anytime another man voiced his interest in me. For months I filled myself with surface level affection, keeping my love for him deeper than anyone knew. I had hope he’d do the same.

So when I found out about you—I froze. I broke. I cried, scream, cursed. I hated you. And him.

But you did something I never expected. You lead him back to me. You lead him back to me, ready to take on life’s transitions and challenges.

And not in the way that sounds. Sure, you could have been obsessive and needy, rude and downright horrible, making me look like the perfect girl. Honestly, I hope that’d be the case. I wanted your flaws to make mine look like scratches on an old car, rather than dents on a brand new cruiser. But they didn’t.

You fit him. You were nice, considerate, beautiful and fun. You were an appropriate fit. His friends liked you, and so did his family. You made him laugh and you made him relaxed.

But neither of you felt fire. And you both know, fire is worth the fight.

When he came back, I immediately felt guilty, as if something I had wished to the heavens about you had come true. But he never spoke a foul word about you. He never wished you anything but the best, in fact, he too felt guilty for ending things with you, breaking your heart, for being something he couldn’t.

I’m sorry for the pain he caused you. I’m sorry for how this must look. I’m sorry for feeling fire for someone that was yours.

I’m sure you hate me.

I’m sure you call me names.

I’m sure you tell yourself I’m needy, high-maintenance and horrible in bed.

That’s okay.

In some ways, you’re probably right. I never claimed to be perfect. But I promise to take care of him, just like you did.

So, thank you for treating him so well and loving him so dearly when I couldn’t. Thank you for showing him that he deserves that.

Thank you for letting him go.

Thank you for knowing that fire is worth the fight.

This man is the love of my life, the greatest partner and friend I could ever ask for. He is the fire that never stopped burning.

Thank you for fostering the flame. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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