Regret.

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Look, I’m a wreck. I’m hardly your favorite person. I know I don’t keep you up at night. I’m sure you’d rather you didn’t have to deal with me. I know. I know.

But I used to look at you, and the sun would shine brighter. Days seemed to be more beautiful, so beautiful that even though they’re long, I could look at you and nothing else could or would matter. You see, I have fallen in and out of love more times than I can count. My heart beats to a broken-down tune, of sorrow and belief. I know I’m not in love with you anymore.

I view people as challenges, you see. From friendships to relationships, I see everything as a hurdle I must pass to get to the end of the struggle that humans become to me.

God, I am tired of fighting a battle I seem to never be winning. I am tired of life, I am tired of this game, I am tired. I’m tired of all my anger. I try to hold it in, but I can’t. I just can’t. I feel complete with you. Like my heart could be beating faster than my brain can comprehend, like I could be so full of rage but being with you would make everything feel safe. Make me feel safe. But you don’t want me. It’s not my fault I’m hard to love. It’s not my fault that you couldn’t give me what I deserve. It’s not my fault.

Honestly, I don’t think you ever did.

You’re not a challenge to me. You’re too real to be true. And my friends don’t understand why you mean what you mean to me. Why I keep going back to you when the next boy I talk to makes me feel small. Why you make me feel worth something when I feel like I’m worth nothing at all.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt the way I felt about you. It was immensely strong, for however little it lasted. And you gave me a lot, and I’m going to thank you for it. I keep replaying the night I told you I loved you, and I keep thinking that I could’ve just stopped myself from even getting there. I don’t regret it. It’s bullshit, I know. I haven’t liked a guy since you. I don’t know how to function around boys anymore. You’ve put me off them if I’m honest. I don’t bother anymore because I just expect the bare minimum, and you really didn’t even give me that. So why should I bother when I’m getting nothing from them? It only ends with me feeling like I do now.

I’m always going to worry about you, and love you. But I’m tired of feeling like I’m chasing someone that isn’t even actually there. I don’t hate you. I want to, trust me.

This was a long time coming, and I’ll learn to cope without you. The thing is, I don’t think I’ll ever be without you.

I keep reminding myself that maybe you would’ve kept me around if it wasn’t so hard. If I wasn’t so hard to deal with. So hard to love. So hard to keep.

I have spent far too long writing odes to your messy brown hair, lying to the world when I say it doesn’t make me feel the way the way Romeo felt when he woke up to find Juliet dead. When I know you make me feel like I’m witnessing my own murder. You stab me in my heart time and time again. I sit and write about you till my fingers are numb. Hoping you’ll disappear. Hoping you’ll come back. Always hoping.

I’m mourning something that was never truly mine. You’re a ball of fire. Constantly blazing. Searching for me to throw your anger at and waiting till I crack. Waiting till I lose myself again and tell you I love you. Waiting till you feel validated.

I see you, and I see red. I see my pain plastered across your name, I see that you’re the master of my fate. I gave you power against me. You’ve used every last drop.

At the end of a dark tunnel, I’ll always see your face. I know it’s not what you want me to see, but I’ll always look for you in crowded rooms, in scattered theme parks, in the ramshackle cave of my aching heart.

I’m always going to feel out of place without you. Like a fish out of water, restless without the warmth the ocean gives it. Without the warmth you gave me. You’ve always been a mystery to me, like the depths of the ocean and the emptiness of space.

Funny thing is, you make me realize I deserve better every time we speak. You make me realize I’m chasing after someone that’ll probably never stop treating me like shit. I’m tired of feeling like I owe you something. I’m tired of feeling like you’re the only one that can love me because if what you gave me was love, I don’t think I want it anymore.

Pining for you still will be my deepest regret.

 

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