When they said you had only one chance at me, they were right.
Despite the fact that I am forgiving and could practically withstand anything, the one thing I absolutely can't stand is, well, actually not being loved. And I suppose that's normal, it really is. Anyone wants to feel loved, I believe.
You said the possibility of losing me scared you into trying harder, even when you weren't sure, which you still aren't (or that's what I got from what you said), even when we agreed that honesty would, or should, be the base of our relationship, or every relationship for that matter, learning that, learning that you weren't actually sure about me just made me feel awful. It truly made me feel as if I wasn't enough, as if I wasn't what you wanted, along with many other things too confusing and ill to put into words.
God, learning that you didn't even care for me in the beginning. That you acted as though you felt the same when you didn't. Having fought for me when you were not really into me. What's with that?
I am aware the underlying reason has nothing to do with me, really. You've got problems, actual, deep problems of your own, which are in fact a thousand times more important and pressing than, well, beginning a new relationship and everything that it implies.
But learning that, or feeling that, makes me feel lost, too. I feel as if I can't trust words anymore. They may not actually be true and I'm starting to overthink everything you say or do. Is it real? Is it just not wanting to lose me?
I feel as if I'm drifting apart from you because of that. Some things don't feel genuine anymore. And I am utterly aware of my exaggeration. But when I read an ''I love you'', I can't help but doubt it. I'm sorry, I am not sure where to go from here.
This was your chance with me. And you made me feel ordinary.
Friday, April 17, 2020
Thursday, April 16, 2020
Blue.
I know you didn't mean it that way. I am sure of it. Even so, I can't help but to doubt myself. At this very moment, I no longer feel special. I no longer feel as beautiful or attractive, at least as I thought I was to you.
And it's saddening. I loathe feeling as if I am not enough. I can't stand that feeling, and at the same time, I can't help it either.
I'm sorry, too. I know it has absolutely nothing to do with me, what you're going through. And it's really hard for me to understand it, I can barely do so. I'm trying not to let it get to me. But just as I am bearing it with you, bear with me my feeling blue, for it will be constant for a while. It will happen again, more than I'd care for.
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