You dated me because you didn’t want to feel lonely anymore. You were sick of falling asleep inside an empty bedroom. You would have taken anyone. I just happened to be the person who gave you attention, the person who made you feel like you weren’t such a failure after all.
You dated me because it made you feel better about yourself. I looked at you like you were the most interesting person I have ever met. I made you feel like you were worth something during a time when you were convinced you meant nothing.
You dated me because it gave you more confidence. When you had me, you were able to stop looking in the mirror and wondering what was wrong with you, wondering why you were unable to keep anyone’s attention for long. I made you feel valued. I made you feel important.
You dated me because it was better for your reputation. You were able to tell your family that you were dating so they would stop bugging you about settling down. You were able to show me off to your jealous friends. With me around, you always had someone to use as your plus one. You didn’t have to embarrass yourself by saying you were single anymore. Having me around brought you comfort. It made you feel like you had crossed a milestone off your list.
You dated me for selfish reasons. So you had someone to post couple pictures of on your social media. So you had someone to drag to parties with you. So you had someone to sleep with in the afternoons. So you had someone to come home to at night. So you had someone to remind you of your worth.
You never actually cared about me. You only cared about what I could do for you.
I’m happy I was able to make you feel better about yourself, at least for a little while, but you made me feel worse about myself. You made me wonder what I was missing. You made me stare into the mirror with question marks in my eyes, trying to figure out why you were happy to take from me, but never seemed to give anything in return.
You never looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the room. You never leaned in closer to hear me speak. You never belly-laughed at my jokes or cried because you saw me crying.
You appreciated me — but not as an individual. You only appreciated that I was there to fill the emptiness. You appreciated that I was a constant in your world.
You picked me, but you could have chosen anyone else. It would have been the same to you. It wouldn’t have made a difference.
I’m happy that I was able to raise your confidence, to make you feel like you were worth something special, but I wish you were able to do the same for me. Instead of raising my confidence, you lowered it. Instead of making me feel loved, you made me feel interchangeable.