You are my person. You told me I was yours too.
You are the one I always wanted to tell my stories to. You are the one I always wanted to see each day. In every single thing, you are my first.
People keep telling me that you’re poison.
But, no; you are my sanity. You are my savior. You pull me up whenever I wallow in darkness. You are enough for me.
But you are also tiring. Every now and then, I question myself if everything that I’m doing is worth it; I think to myself that I have given more than I should’ve. It was practically like I lived for you. I prioritized you over myself to the point that your sanity comes over mine. I’ve been there for you through thick and thin – through every breakdown you’ve had.
But you were never there for any of mine. You are always the first one I want to talk to when it feels like the world is crashing down on me; when if feels like everyone else is walking away. It was always you. Yet not even once have you been there for me.
I do believe that people love differently. We cannot expect others to love us the way we expect them to, or want them to.. but you’re too much.
You are confusing. We became close. I thought of you as my best friend. Then people started pointing out how different you’ve been treating me; how special they believe I am to you – that we might be something more than friends. That possibility never crossed my mind until almost everyone brought it up.
Little by little, I might have reciprocated every sweet gesture you’ve done for me. I enjoyed every night you’d text me that you’re coming over and we’d stay up late talking about all sorts of things, just enjoying each other’s company, or just singing our hearts out. Somewhere along the way, I might have started to fall for you.
But I reached my limit. I confronted you. I wanted to establish what we really were. I wanted you to tell me that I’m not the only one feeling this way. I was right. You told me that I’m different from everyone else. You told me you treated me differently. But I was also wrong. You told me you’re sorry for the confusion – for crossing the line. You told me I’m just your best friend. You’re too much.
Little by little, reality started to unfold right before my eyes.
I wasn’t your person. I was merely a safety net you clung onto. I was merely the person who made herself available to you. I was merely the person you needed when you feel down because I listen to you; because I try to understand you.
I wasn’t the one you wanted to tell your stories to. I was merely the one willing to listen to you.
You’re only there when you need me. You left me hanging. They were right. You are poison. I’ve been too blinded to see that I was tearing away a piece of me every time I tried to patch you up.
If you ever come across this, I hope you do realize that it’s you. I’ll never admit it to you if you ask me though.
I know that you’ll tell me that it’s not what you intended to do. But you always made me feel this way. I made excuses for you. I rationalized for you.
I know you’ll tell me that you’re damaged, that’s why. But I also am damaged. We both are. But I was the one who always gave more. Rather, I was the only one giving until I had nothing left for myself.
You were right. I’ve done more than I should. And it ends here. You never chose me. And now I’m choosing myself.
You aren’t worth it.
I am finally walking away. I am finally saying goodbye.
I will always love you. I know that a part of me will always do.