It was all my imagination. The idea of what we could have been. I so badly wanted to be your person. It always felt like it would happen eventually, even if the signs were there. The excuses were never ending, but so was my love for you.
I believed the timing was never right, but I also believed that with the right one, timing wouldn’t matter. I believed that, no matter how many times you chose everything else over me, if you chose me at least once, it would make up for the rest. I believed that all the ignored texts, plans that fell through, and late night calls were all merely because you cared so much. I believed in the illusion that it could still work out in the end. You made me question myself. Question my beliefs, my morals. I was starting to forget who I was. I was beginning to lose myself in you.
Then I saw it. That first picture of you and her. My heart shattered. The millions of pieces I tried to put back together only made the wound that much worse. All of these months believing you were just too busy for me, believing that our timing wasn’t perfect just yet. All the ignored texts, plans that fell through, late night calls. They were all because she was there. She was there taking up your time. You were answering her texts. You were making plans with her. You’d call her during normal hours. I suddenly became the other woman. I somehow became the homewrecker in a home I thought I was building.
It took a lot for me to get past that. To believe I deserved more than what you were offering. To forgive you and get over something I never fully got closure for. But I knew you too well. I knew you’d never let me walk away peacefully. As if it didn’t hurt enough. As if telling you I was falling for you wasn’t hard enough on it’s own. I now had to learn to catch myself from falling for something fictional.
So you’d “check in” and follow up to see how I was doing every now and then. Seeing your name pop on my phone would send me into a downward spiral. But then I met him. And it was like your power over me no longer worked. It was like I had gotten over you because someone else showed me how I was supposed to feel. Someone who wanted to answer my texts and see me. Someone who treated me the way you weren’t good enough to.
Now I look at your social media and feel nothing but happiness. Happiness for me and you. Happy that I was able to move on and so were you. That while you pretend to be a perfect man with another woman you’ll probably ruin, at least you’re smiling. And maybe she’ll fix all the broken pieces you hold on to. Maybe she’s exactly what you needed, and I was just a good distraction from your sadness. Maybe she’ll make you that better man you’ve hoped to become. But every time I see you together, I see something I had never seen before. I see hope. I see joy. And I feel happiness that I didn’t end up with what I thought I wanted. I feel happiness in knowing you are no longer what I want.
So this is to you, the guy I thought I’d never get over. Maybe at one point we were meant to be. Or maybe we never were. But it did feel good to know that at one point, even for a small moment, you could’ve been mine. But what feels even better? Knowing I’m over this chapter of my life. Knowing that seeing you no longer puts a knot in my stomach. Knowing that I have relinquished your power and fully gained my strength back to move on.