I’m Tired Of Always Being Your Second Choice

I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the girl who made you laugh or smile when you were feeling down, because every other person “understood” you but me.

I’m sorry that whenever you hear my name your first instinct is to roll your eyes, because I was the walking doll you couldn’t physically bear to be around.

You were too stubborn, clinging to the idea that I was the one in the wrong, when you were the one who kept comparing me to the idea of her.

Her long silky blonde hair, paper thin body, and dashing blue eyes, while I was the standard dark-haired girl with brown eyes and an “okay” body.

However, I’m not sorry.

I’m not sorry that I made you stay up late at night just to talk about how you were or how your day was.

I’m not sorry that I was your safety blanket within the hurricane of your emotions.

I’m not sorry that whenever your friends used to sneakily mention my name, you would smile out of proudness that I was your girl.

And last of all, I’m not sorry for all of the memories.

I kept conforming to the expectations of your ideal girl. I changed my ways in order to make you happy, when in reality, I was the one who suffered anxiety attacks and had sleepless nights thinking about the possibility of us becoming something that mattered to you.

I literally went out my way to say hello to you, while you didn’t even bother to look me in the eye. You knew I wasn’t like the other girls who were “touchy” with their boyfriends, yet you used that against me when I needed your comfort and warmth on a long, cold day filled with pathetic petty drama. Sometimes all I wanted was the reassurance that you were there for me as a friend.

There would be days where I deeply wanted to talk to you like a best friend, but then I remembered you already had so many “best friends” and so little time. I look back at the day when you promised me you wouldn’t get angry if I truly told you how I felt. Well you lied. I told you how I felt; you disagreed and went straight to her.

You always ran to her when it all got too hard and you wanted to give up. You’re a quitter and I’ll never forgive you.

I’ll never forget how you made me cry out of self-encouragement for yourself, you forced yourself to fall for me because you only liked the idea of me, but halfway through the process you gave up.

You were the reason I doubted myself for the whole four months, I wish you would have told me the truth instead of playing the victim all the time. You manipulated my friends and thrived off the attention you were getting off it in the process of ruining me.

You prioritized her happiness over mine and made me feel guilty for it. I’m done.