Next year, I promise to leave you in the past. When the new year comes, I’m saying goodbye.
I’m saying goodbye to the pain. To the hurt. That unrequited love. The feelings that seem so one-sided. I’m saying goodbye to you. You were never any good for me anyways.
I’m saying goodbye to texting you first. To waiting for you to respond. I’m saying goodbye to hoping I didn’t do something to make you mad. To waiting for you to acknowledge me. To make me feel like something. To constantly feeling unworthy. Like a burden. To feeling like I don’t deserve your attention.
Next year, I will stop missing you.
Because really, it should be you missing me.
I’m done putting forth all my effort for someone who doesn’t make me a priority. Who makes me question my worth. I’m done feeling bad for myself. I’m done wishing you felt the same strong feelings that I did.
I shouldn’t have to question myself every day. It shouldn’t be that hard. But we never really were meant to be, were we?
Next year, I will stop picking up my phone waiting to see your name. I will stop thinking of things to tell you. I will stop reminiscing on the good times. I will stop romanticizing someone who isn’t that special. I will put your name behind me.
I will be more realistic. I will see you for what you really are. I will stop grasping for straws. I will stop looking for any indication that you care. Because if you did, I wouldn’t have to miss you.
You would be right here with me.
Next year, I will believe in myself. I will put you where you belong, in the past.
Next year I will stop missing you,
But today. Well today, I wish you were here.