You ain’t that special.
Before you deny your betrayal to my face, let me just tell you this — You’re not that special. You won’t be the first to hurt me, to tear my heart into pieces, nor to destroy all the faith I have come to rebuild towards love. You’re not. You’re not the first one to ruin how I see love and life.
You’re not that special.
That look on your face just says a lot more than your mouth can. I know. I know what you did because I’m not new to this. I’ve dealt with all this over and over and I’ve come to prove how my instincts hold power. I know that eye contact you can’t make with me. I know that face — maybe not regret but guilt. You’re not that special to think I’m clueless, I’ve lived most of my life with these clues and I’ve come to master all these signs way long enough.
I’ve been here before, quite exactly the same spot as I was in for countless times. Yet, you see, I still managed to take that damn risk of being with you who has all the means to break me once again. I know what I got myself into, and I know this risk well enough that part of me had already been expecting it. So you’re not that special to think you shouldn’t admit what you did just so you won’t hurt me.
I’ve managed to rise from all the falls I have had with the wrong people. And if you’re yet another wrong decision I have in my life, I can take it. You’re not the first one I have to move on from, I can handle it.
You’re not that special, so cut that crap and at least be the first one.
Be the first one to say it — straight to my face, looking me dead in the eye, uttering every bit of stabs almost good enough to kill me. Maybe you’ll be the first one to have that decency of admitting instead of projecting; resenting instead of bragging.
Say it. Because you’re not that special, I’ve taken these stabs before, and as much as they’re good enough to kill me, they didn’t. I am fine, and I always will be.