here is the thing about being someone’s second choice.
everyone says it’s better than not even being someone’s choice at all, but it’s not.
see,
not being someone’s choice gives you closure. you know it’s not gonna happen; you know to move on, and it hurts but you know. but being a second choice?
it’s being held on by the smallest touch of hope, because maybe, (just maybe,) tomorrow might be the day they change their mind.
it’s abandoning your homework to comfort him after their latest fight, even though in the back of your mind you know he’s gonna make up with her tomorrow, and you’re probably better off finishing that essay.
it’s staying up late waiting to hear from him because what if?? it’s one of his bad nights?? while he goes straight to sleep without giving you a second thought.
it’s only existing when they’ve had a fight and he wants to talk to someone who he knows will drop everything for him.
it’s thinking maybe, maybe he’s finally over her and maybe it’ll finally be you then seeing him post a cute quote and just thinking, ‘oh.’
it’s painful, it’s repetitive, it’s an endless cycle. it sure as hell isn’t better than not being a choice at all. it’s constant dedication to the smallest hopes that it’ll be you
- even though you know it’ll never be you, don’t you? // w.m.m
