I Loved You At Your Worst But You Didn’t Love Me At My Best

By

I stayed, even when you took hours to answer my texts when I needed to hear from you the most. Even when you canceled plans at the last second and made new ones without warning me beforehand. Even when you treated me like complete shit and then twisted the situation to make me look like the bad guy.

I saw the worst sides of you. I was around you when you were rude. Distant. Manipulative. Bitter. Angry at the world. I have heard you lie and watched you disappoint me time after time.

I could have decided you were too flawed to love, but nothing made me like you less. I wanted you, even though there were things you needed to work on fixing. Even though you were far from perfect.

Meanwhile, you only saw the best sides of me and it still wasn’t enough for you. You still decided I was not worth an extended amount of your time.

I don’t know what else I could have done to impress you. Whenever you were in the room, I was friendly. Sweet. Sexual. Funny. Lighthearted. I made sure you only saw the best versions of me. I used up all of my energy trying to make you like me.

I never let you see me angry. I would censor my words to avoid hurting your feelings. I was careful with the way I spoke to you so that we never ended up in unnecessary fights. I made sure, even when I was pissed off at you, I never voiced my complaints. I never called you out on your bullshit. I was lenient. I was accommodating.

I never let you see me cry. I would lock myself in bathrooms or bedrooms, far away from your sight. I knew emotion would make you uncomfortable so I shielded you from it. I never let you know when you hurt my feelings. I acted like everything was fine, even when I was secretly falling apart inside. I always put on a smile for you. I acted like nothing could hurt me.

I never let you see me jealous, either. I would stop myself from asking you a million questions about the other girls you were texting. I didn’t want to interrogate you. I didn’t want to treat you like a criminal. I figured if I gave you enough space, you would eventually come to the conclusion I was best for you. I thought you would give them up to stay with me.

You only saw the best sides of me — but maybe that was the problem. Maybe I should have let you see the real me instead of the picture perfect version. Maybe I should have cried in front of you and called you out when you hurt my feelings. Maybe I should have been more blunt. Maybe I should have been more authentic.

Or maybe you wouldn’t have liked me no matter what. Maybe nothing I did for you would have been enough. Maybe you weren’t worth my time anyway.