This Is How You Lose A Good Girl

You lie to her.

Maybe it’s something tiny, but it all starts there. A lie of omission. A half-truth. A little piece of your life that you embellish, or minimize, or keep hidden, thinking, Things will just be better if she doesn’t know, and How could she possibly find out? This is what you tell yourself.

Then you question her.

You ask her where she’s going and who she’s with, but not with curiosity. With suspicion. You make assumptions, subtle at first, but they grow as your insecurity grows, wondering if she’s lying to you the way you lied to her, wondering how she’s treating you, and if she’s worth it, wondering for the sake of wondering, just because you’re scared. You question her friends, question her choices, question her plans. You question her so much that she begins to question herself.

Then you keep her at arm’s length.

You want her to open to you, want her to confess pieces of her life to you, want her to be vulnerable and honest and true. And yet, you stand along the sidelines, holding her at a distance. You don’t let her in. You stay guarded and removed, a wall built up around your heart, too thick for her to breakthrough just yet. She feels so far from you, unsure of how or what to do to make you give in to her. You let her in slowly, then you back away. You open the door to your heart then shut it again, flitting back and forth with your feelings.

Then you hold her too close.

When you finally let her in, you suffocate her. You confess strong feelings for her, and say that if she cares for you, she’ll change, she’ll mold herself to fit into your life, she’ll become what you’re looking for, she’ll be so good to you, good enough to shift her ways to fit yours. She relents, because she thinks this is love. She’s a good girl, falling fast. You cover her with your love and she doesn’t see it starting to control her.

Then you try to change her.

You make sure she’s always with you, always putting you first, always walking the invisible lines you’ve created. You tell her sweet nothings that make her believe in you and in your love. You involve yourself deeper in her life and she shifts to accommodate you. Things are moving too fast, but this is love, she thinks, so she lets it happen. You are finally giving her your whole self, so to her, it feels real.

Then you pull away.

Just when she starts to feel comfortable, just when she begins to trust you, just when she starts to feel safe, you run in the other direction. You make her doubt herself, think that she’s the one in the wrong. You pull away with no reason or explanation, craving space, craving freedom, craving you own way of doing things. She’s at a loss, suddenly naked and weak, like a child calling after you. She’s lost who she used to be. But you don’t seem to notice. You blame her, tell her she’s being annoying, being insecure, being needy.

Then you play with her heart.

You say one thing and do another. You make her feel loved then you leave. You change your emotions with the drop of a hat. See, this is how you lose a good girl. You don’t tell her the truth and then you don’t trust her. You think that she’s going to hurt you like a past lover, and so you hold her at arm’s length, doubting who she is, thinking that she’s the same as someone who’s no longer a part of your life. You let your insecurities get the best of you. You don’t allow yourself to have faith in her, to be vulnerable, to let love happen organically, and fill all the empty spaces between the two of you.

You try to make her change, when really, she’s already all you need and more. But you’re too scared of getting hurt to see that in her arms, you’ll be the safest. You play games. You don’t act true. You always want to be one step ahead, but in reality, you’re falling behind.

And you’ll lose her.

Because she’s a good girl, and deserves better.
And one day she’ll wake up and see how you’re treating her.
Then she’ll run and she won’t look back.

And you’ll be left with the memories.
All the love you could have had, the wonderful girl you could have kept.
But you were too damn selfish to love that good girl right. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

Marisa is a writer, poet, & editor. She is the author of Somewhere On A Highway, a poetry collection on self-discovery, growth, love, loss and the challenges of becoming.

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