Read This On The Nights He Doesn’t Text You Back
He looked at me like I was something to waste; something to toss aside, something to destroy.
I want you to explore the kind of love that doesn’t make you question anything – aside from how did you ever live without them?
I want you to explore love in a way that makes you actually feel every cut, every burn, every lonely evening spent staring at a cracked screen waiting on a message from a boy who would never respond. I want you to explore love that doesn’t make you cringe, or cry, or feel any less human because those bad experiences are what molded you to be who you are today. Who you are attracts who you love.
Trust me, I know. I spent year after year chasing men who I only knew would bring me down. I sent messages hoping they’d respond, but the right kind of love, doesn’t put you into those predicaments.
I fell asleep feeling lonely, more than I ever felt alone. I made fools of myself – time and time again – wishing, hoping, wasting time on a boy who just didn’t feel that way about me. He looked at me like I was something to do. He looked at me like I was something to waste; something to toss aside, something to destroy. I was without feelings. I buried them. I deserved this. I deserved to be a side piece, to wait around and feel comforted only when he was able and willing to spare me an afternoon alone without his cell phone buzzing from only God knew who.
And it worked. I survived on macchiatos, and Sam Smith repeats, and the constant stage of “are we or aren’t we” melted into every conversation, every text message, every early morning that I hated waking up alone knowing he was waking up with someone beside him. This is what I deserved – a barrage of birthdays I celebrated with family only, of trying to sneak pictures to post on Instagram of me and him together like I was some sort of groupie and he was the indigenous prize. I was happy with the little I was given.
Are you happy with the little bit you’re given? Are you happy waking up alone, in a twin sized bed, letting your coffee grow cold because your eyes are too terrified to miss the flashing on your phone?
It’s okay if you’re not. It’s okay to be 18, and 22, and 29 and still not understand your worth because finally seeing it doesn’t happen overnight. It takes years of self-destructive relationships, and lonely mornings, and finally – a morning when you wake up and discover that you’re not lonely anymore. It takes one morning when you’re finally seeing clearly and realizing that who you are, and the talents you possess, are worthy of someone’s complete and utterly amazed admiration: you. Self-love doesn’t happen overnight, sweetie. For those of us who have seen the rarest form of intoxicating love, it’s a hard battle to overcome.
But, trust in me, that the times will get better, that true love it’s still out there, waiting for you to grab it. Never be ashamed of the things you are, the uniqueness and quirkiness, and unabashed charm that flows through your veins. Love it. Cherish it. Own it.
I hope that when you’re feeling down, feeling the wake of uneasiness crash inside your belly, that you take the time to read this, to remind yourself that you are deserving of all the riches the world possesses, and even, if only for a minute, you earnestly believe it.