I would have dated you. I would have given up the single life for you. I would have changed my relationship status, switched you from an almost to an official boyfriend, and erased every other suitor from my contact list. I would have chosen you over everyone else, because you mattered more to me than they did.
From the start, I felt like we had an authentic connection. I felt like we got each other. I felt like we could have become something special.
But you never gave us a fighting chance. You only gave me half of your effort, half of your attention, half of your heart.
It was pretty obvious that I wanted to date you — but you clearly didn’t feel the same.
Instead of asking me out, you decided to refer to me as just a friend. Instead of getting too close to me, you pulled yourself away whenever you started to feel something. Instead of choosing me over everyone else, you wanted to have multiple girls at once.
You put off making a decision. You thought you could get away with stringing me along. You tried to get what you wanted out of me without giving me anything worthwhile in return.
I would have dated you, but that never ended up happening, and I’m not going to blame myself anymore. I did everything I could to convince you to stick around. I sent you thoughtful texts. I made you laugh when you were in a sour mood. I went out of my way to see you, because the thought of missing out on an opportunity to be alone with you was too horrible to stand.
I showed you how much I cared about you through my words and through my actions, which is more than I can say about you. You only gave me half-truths. Broken promises. False hope.
You told me you missed me. You told me you liked me. But you never acted like it. You acted like I was a backup plan. You only came around when you were bored and lonely. When you needed someone to make you feel important again.
There were some days when you made me feel like there was a chance we were going to end up together. When you held my hand and pulled me close and looked at me like we were the only ones in the universe. But on other days, on most days, you made me feel like I was wasting my breath talking to you.
No matter how many times we hung out, no matter how flirtatious our conversations grew, you always had an excuse that kept us from getting together officially. You never committed. You never cared as much as I hoped you would.
Once upon a time, I would have been happy to date you, but I guess you never had any intention of dating me. And I guess it’s better off this way, because I never want to settle for someone who sees me as a second choice.