Once upon a time, I assumed that my soul had been connected to yours since the beginning of eternity. I believed with my whole being that what we had was no Earthbound creation but rather a star-crossed love that the constellations themselves had written for us. That’s why I never stopped wishing on the bright lights above for you — God knows the times I’ve shouted your name into the space around me in hopes that the sound would travel to you and somehow guide you back to me.
These days, reality has presented itself to me; I discovered that I’ve romanticized this narrative far too much and fought for a happy ending for far too long. This is me closing this chapter; this is me letting go.
I have hindered my growth because I was waiting for you to catch up to the same page; I limited myself by desperately clinging onto who I was in the beginning, in hopes that we would end up together in the plot. It’s been ages since we’ve been on the same page. Spending so much time being in love with the same person is supposed to stand for something. The warrior in me has refused to give up because I was so desperate for this to mean something. I was so caught up in the naive belief that if I pushed through the pain and never let go of you in the process, I would somehow prove my worth to you. The truth is, I was always deserving of you — you never appeared to notice, and it’s not my fault that you didn’t. You can’t force someone to value you. You can’t force someone to love you.
I’m finished overlooking the flaws in this story because I want to focus on the best in you. Throughout this chronicle, I did nothing but be the best I could be for you, and the second I made a slight mistake, you held it against me relentlessly. That’s not my liability, either. Someone who loves you would never remove you from their life over something so simple, and I’m beginning to accept that now. What we had wasn’t love; what we had was me pretending to be someone else for as long as I could remember to feel like I was worthy of you. The truth is, villains look like heroes at times. They’re skilled at recognizing vulnerability and making it their companion. The truth is, I was always worth more than this.
Self-love is a tough journey, but I think it begins with putting this book back onto the shelf. My copy is as fresh as the day we wrote it, without a single flaw on the pages. Your copy is worn down, tattered, and missing several essential contents; it’s no longer fair to me to fill you in on what you’re missing.
At one time, I was the damsel in distress. You were my Prince Charming who always came back too late to fix the damages your careless hands had caused. In this story, I decided I don’t need a prince to save me. I was always capable of guarding myself, and by letting this go, I have found the strength to be my own savior.
I’m the author of this tale now — and this time, I’m the hero.