You Didn't Love Me

One of my biggest faults is that I can find a way to forgive anyone and I can find a lesson in every way someone hurts me. Time after time, it leads to more hurt when I inevitably let these people back in after I’ve convinced myself they’d never do it again. After years of being hurt in the same ways, usually by the same people, I promised myself I’d stop. No more forgiveness, everybody got one chance and after that chance was gone, so were they. I lost people quickly, determined to stay true to my promise. I was angry all the time, which was exhausting. I had thought this would help me from being hurt, but I was hurting myself. So I let you back in, I listened to the lies and promises and told myself they were truthful. I knew I was going to get hurt, you said verbatim the same things all the others had said. I knew who you were, there’s no way we talked about the things we talked about and didn't know each other. Yet, as the saying goes “there’s comfort in consistency”; I always went into things knowing I’d be hurt, why stop then? So I did what I’ve always done, and ignored every red flag. I jumped in head first. Ignored everyone that told me not to.

I was right, I did get hurt. I got hurt really bad.

Sometimes you meet someone, and you just click. You both get along extremely well, and never doubt the other one cares for you. Through the rough times and the easy ones, they’re by your side. You know in your heart that they love you, not for just one reason but for hundreds. They’re who you go to for everything, every defining moment in your life. They show you what love is. Every day seems a little bit brighter since you met them. Your heart is more full, your eyes sparkle when you hear their name. No matter what happens, you know they'll always be on the sidelines, cheering you on.

You were not this person.

When you looked at me, you saw an endgame; something to have, something to get. You were in love with the idea of us, you and me together. You didn't love me, it wasn't my laugh or my eyes or my habit of wearing funny socks just for me to see; it wasn't the late night talks about why dogs and cats don't like each other, nor was it the way my eyes lit up when I talked about my mom, that's not why you stayed. You stayed because of the possibility of us - but not the us I wanted and not the one I deserved. Your version of us was the physical side of love, the type that happened in bedrooms and under sheets, the type that you could get anywhere.

But that’s okay.

I had convinced myself that I needed you, or at least someone like you; that I wasn’t whole without a boy loving me. I had based my self-esteem and happiness on the goal that some boy would think I was worthy. It was bullshit. I am alive, I have friends. Obviously, I am whole. As for needing a boy to love me? I had plenty, and they loved me for more than my physical appearance. They didn’t become friends with me because I have a butt or because I wear crop tops sometimes. I was and still am loved by them no matter how I look that day. They’re still in my life despite us never having a physical relationship. They love me, you did not.

Someone has to love me as fiercely as I deserve, you fell short. So did he, and the 'he' before him. It's on me. You taught me how to love myself like you never did. So in the end, I guess I have to thank you. Without you hurting me, I never would have known what I wanted.

And what I want is me.