Part Of Moving On Is Recognizing That You’re Better Than Him

Clarke Sanders

You’re in your bed watching the ceiling fan, mesmerized by the shadows it makes. You look to your left at your window and notice how little the light is now seeping through. The day has come, it has dwindled, and it will be dark out soon. And you – you’ve spent all day lost on thoughts of him.

You don’t want to look at your phone because you know it’ll sting a little to light up the screen and not see his name there. Last night was the same thing. Last night you went out in your sexiest outfit determined to own downtown. But last night all you did was get drunk and turn your own Friday night into a complete bust because you didn’t hear from him.

Last night you met a handsome stranger who smiled at you, gave you his number and told you that you had pretty eyes. This handsome stranger gave you more attention than he ever could in the half-hour you spent talking to him. But all you could do as you took the drink this guy bought you and flirted with you was think of him. It was the same thing on the last date you went on with that sweet guy you kept at arm’s length and built walls around you stories high. And all you could think about the last time someone kissed you were his hands.

And here you are again. Getting up to shower for Saturday night and looking at your phone again. You’re getting ready and wasting your favorite shade of lipstick in case tonight is the night he gets drunk and feels like he needs a little company. You know you shouldn’t get drunk and text him. You’re smart you know you shouldn’t reply to him when it’s close to closing time and you hear from him. You know you shouldn’t let someone who only sees you as a body, as a tender mouth and as something to fill, put a single finger on your skin. But you’ll do it anyway. You will let him anyway.

It would be okay to have a purely physical relationship with him if he could give you any amount of respect you deserve, but he never has and never will. And all you’re doing is feeling up the emptiness, all you’re doing is thriving on the shitty way he makes you feel because it’s been so long since you’ve felt anything. You know you should stop. He doesn’t respect as a human being. He can’t even for a second pretend you’re a person, a woman with thoughts, a heart, a story.

Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s lonelier to waste your time and rent out your body to someone who doesn’t know your worth than it is to be alone? You deserve to be more than an afterthought. You deserve to be more than a number on a phone who is only programmed to contact you on nights he’s bored, on days he’s alone and no one is around and he has nothing better to do, when he needs someone. He’s not picking you. He doesn’t specifically need you. You could be anyone. It wouldn’t matter.

His mouth isn’t something bigger than you, his hands aren’t something bigger than your heart, and his skin isn’t something big enough to warm your body. His lips are just another sharp blade for you to kiss; yours are just another pair to devour when he’s hungry.

You deserve to be more than food for carnivores, a rest stop for ravenous wolves. You owe yourself more than to give little pieces of yourself away for those who do not deserve a taste.

You deserve handsome strangers asking you for your number and chasing you. You deserve to go on dates with guys who see you as something more than just to wrap their hands around. You deserve to stop thinking about the guy who never thinks of you. You owe it to yourself to stop replying to the guy who only ever remembers your name as an afterthought. You deserve to stop pulling away bricks for hearts that remain shut. You owe it to yourself to tear your walls down for someone who is actually interested in more than just your skin, in your thoughts, in all those little secrets you carry in your heart.

You are worthy of more than just an Uber ride at 2 AM, of more than just an hour on a Wednesday night or a Sunday afternoon. You’re more than just entertainment. You’re more than just a thing to do. You’ve got a wilderness encased within your ribs the world would be so lucky to see. You feel alive when it rains and even more so when you can feel the thunder vibrate. You prefer these kinds of days to the ones where you can feel the sun. You fall in love with characters in books. You have so much in common with your favorite poets and favorite authors. You can never say no to a glass of Cabernet. You deserve to be touched by someone who wants to know these things.

Stop getting ready for a just in case. Stop wasting your sexiest outfits, your favorite shades of lipstick and good hair days on him. Get dressed up. Paint your lips. Spray on your perfume. And when you do it, don’t do it for anyone but you. Dance all night by yourself or with your girlfriends by your side. You are all you need to fill all the empty space. You are all you need to put a smile on your face. You are all you need to feel warm. You are all you need to feel beautiful.

And if you meet a stranger, think of no one but yourself. Let him tell you how beautiful you are, and be open when he asks you all those questions the guys you’re used to kissing don’t ask. You owe it to yourself to take a risk. You owe it to yourself to try something different. To be open to someone who will at least buy you dinner. You owe it to yourself to more than just a body. You deserve kindness. You deserve attention. You deserve respect. You owe it to yourself to move on and give up the assholes you’ve always liked. TC mark

Natalia Vela

writer on the storm.still checking books out from your local library.

To love yourself should be no quiet affair, but a loud uprising.

“Never forget,
you are more powerful
than you are damaged
and you will rise
from any abyss
they drown you in.”

— Nikita Gill, Your Heart Is The Sea

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