What does it feel like to have someone love you? I’ve crushed and lusted and fallen and cared for. I’ve even loved someone myself. But at 25, I can’t say I’ve ever felt it. Reciprocated love.
I never thought I’d be this girl. I suppose no one really ever sets out to be what I’ve become, though. How do I still care about you? How do I still try to find ways to read messages from you? How do I go to bed and still recap every good moment we had over and over again? How do I keep letting myself be friends with you after you ended our relationship and knowing that every single subway ride back will end with me crying myself to sleep and pretending I am over you over drinks with friends the next day? I’m not over you.
Why do I keep inviting you into my life to unintentionally hurt me by not loving me back?
It’s like craving that feeling of butterflies. That feeling I had from the first time I met you. Or the first time you held my hand. The first time I let my guard down. The first time you told me something you had never shared with anyone before.
Somehow, I always think that the next time will be it. I’ll dress better. I’ll have a better job. My hair will be perfect and my eyeliner just right and everyone will turn their heads as I walk towards you. I’ll be thinner and stronger and happier than the last time you saw me and then, only then, you’ll finally realize everything you gave up.
But what comes after that? Even in my wildest imaginings I can’t picture the next scene. It’s not going to become a reality.
You wanted to remain friends because we fit so well together. Spending time together seems to come easily to you. You’re so hard to give up and cut out because all you ever did was be a perfect gentleman. You’re just not a gentleman who will love me. I guess the question I need to stop asking is when you’ll love me or why. Someone will and it won’t feel like this.