You can be the outcast or the backlash of somebody's lack of love. Or you can start speaking up" ~Sara Bareilles You know what, Guys, I'm not sure I ever said to Him what I wanted to say so here it goes:
I tried so hard to be whatever it was that I thought you wanted, the Ultimate Cool Chick, the Geek Girl, to somehow prove I was good enough for you. Smart Enough. Pretty Enough. Enough of Something. I fell for you when you didn't notice me. I liked the way you talked to me early on. When you thought I wasn't paying attention. You said funny things and got eager and goofy over little stuff. You said we'd go to Woodford Reserve together. You lied. I knew you were insecure and I suspected from your Twitter feed and Facebook you had been very lonely and deeply hurt. I promised myself I wouldn't cause damage to you if you let me in. I never thought you'd hurt me the way you did. Even that very first time when I confessed my feelings you responded in a flippant manner. "Fair enough," you wrote. Like I didn't mean anything. That was the night I broke wide open. Drove in tears to find my brother, sobbed through pancakes at the Runcible Spoon, and turned up the radio as loud as it would go in hopes of drowning out my thoughts and the pain. It was my first dissociative episode. I was so numb. I fell fast and hard. And you didn't care. I dreamed you would. That you'd find me and make it okay. I thought, "God, can't he see how hurt I am?" I think you did see. It just didn't matter to you. I let you back in because I was ill and I thought somehow you'd care. That you'd see that everything fell apart the night you broke me. But what I learned was that you would never see and never care. I can speculate as to why, but I'll probably never have those answers. So tonight I'm being brave and saying: I wanted you more than anyone I have ever known and You hurt me more than anyone ever has.