“You can’t do something halfway.”
This was something my mama used to say whenever I screwed up in school or promised to do my chores and stopped before finishing. Of course I’d groan. I’d do the typical kid thing. I didn’t want to hear it.
I didn’t want to hear it because she was right. And I knew it.
You can’t do something halfway. It’s either finished or incomplete. That’s it. No excuses or justifications. That’s just how it goes.
The way you cared for me was always incomplete. I refused to see it at first thinking I could love enough for the both of us. I didn’t want to admit the truth. The same thing my mama always said.
You can’t do something halfway.
You can’t love me halfway. You either want all of me or none of it. I’m not a project you get to start and abandon when things get hard or something else seems more intriguing. That’s not how you love someone.
I know you came close. You tried and there were moments I thought maybe you really did love me. You were seconds away from it. You were so close to making it to the finish line.
But you’d stop. You’d suddenly go cold. You’d disappear without an explanation.
You didn’t love me. You sometimes wanted me.
And I don’t deserve that. I deserve someone to love me all the way.
I hope you find someone and treat them better. I hope you allow yourself to give 100% instead of a mere 50. It’s hurtful. It’s painful to be on the receiving end of someone who cares so little.
So now, I’m moving on. I’m dusting myself off and mending my broken heart. I won’t rush into the next pair of arms because they smell good and promise the chance at something.
I don’t want promises. I want actions. I don’t want attempts. I want something finished. I want something I can point to and say, “This is real.”
You almost loved me, but that’s not enough for me. I want the whole thing. I want to be loved. Fully.