If I had to describe my life in one word, it would be ”waiting”.
I've always been waiting for something. I waited for his texts and calls. I was waiting for him to find time for me. I waited for him to say, “I love you.” I waited for him to be ready for a relationship.
I waited for him to choose me, but he never did.
The sad part is, and it's far from easy to admit, if he hadn't left me I would probably still be waiting.
I would still settle for his empty words and false promises. I'd still be okay with being his plan B.
I'd still hold on to the hope that something shifts in him and we come together.
I lied to myself.
I lied that I was fine. I lied about not needing a label. I lied that I was relaxed, kind of girl, ”whatever happens – happens”.
I lied because I wanted him in my life so badly and that was the only way I could have him.
I ignored all the warning signs in front of my eyes that warned me to stay away. I couldn't help but see her.
He told me he wasn't ready for a relationship and like a fool I stuck to the “not yet” part of the sentence and thought things would change in the future.
I made excuses for his behavior because I thought he just needed more time.
By waiting for him As he fell in love with me, I fell in love with him more and more.
My infatuation with him turned into love and I hoped the same would happen on his side. As I became more and more clingy, I interpreted all characters as I wanted to see them.
All the little signs of affection he showed me were so great in my head.
I thrived on the bits of attention he gave me even though it was never enough. I always felt robbed.
I always wanted more, but I chose less because I felt I had no other choice.
He cared about me. That knows I. I'm sure of that even now. But he never loved me. Not the way I loved him.
He only half loved me. I only had a small place in his heart. He loved me like his backup plan while all my heart was his.
While I was dreaming about our life with him, he always knew he wouldn't stay .
That's why my whole heart was broken into millions of little pieces and I haven't collected them all yet.
On the other hand, he remained whole, undamaged, untouched, because he was never mine like I was his.
He was my greatest love and my greatest love. ßt’t’t hardest lesson.
He taught me that love if it doesn’t go both ways is worthless.
He taught me that pain can be even greater when you're in something that has no labels and promises no commitment.
He taught me that I respect myself enough and wait for what i deserve.
That I shouldn't chase after anyone and tell them how great we would be together if they didn't see for yourself. That my love alone wasn't enough. That I'm stronger than I think and that I can make myself happy.
Most importantly, he taught me that I'm never satisfied should be someone's backup plan when I deserve to be someone's first and only option.
