When I met you I thought nothing of what it was, I was young and in my prime, having fun and not caring what I did. I suppose you could say I didn’t have any respect for myself back then, I was enjoying living in the moment, or was I self-destructing?
You stayed by me that year, despite my lack of confidence or ability to love. Slowly I started to improve, slowly I started to have faith in myself.
But you would never commit to me, that lingered in my mind, as a constant reminder that I wasn’t quite good enough for you.
A year after that first night, I had to tell you how I felt. How much you meant to me, how far I’d fallen.
And still I couldn’t make you love me, I couldn’t convince you to be with me. You knew better than to get involved with someone in such a critical time of your life. I understood your reasoning but it didn’t make it hurt any less, it didn’t stop me questioning myself.
If only I was better; prettier, funnier, girlier … would you have wanted me?
So I forced myself to step away, and to distract me, I allowed myself to be pulled into the life of another.
I swerved into a toxic environment. I drunk the poison and succumbed to the control.
When all the joy had finally fallen from my grip, you picked it up, your nurturing hands carried it until mine became free. You gave my joy back fully restored. I never even knew it was fixable.
You saved me. You brought me back. You will never realise the enormity of what you’ve done.
I can’t make you love me and that’s okay. I am grateful to have met you, to know you and to be able to call you my friend.
izzy806
areudirty
2087
kianamaiart
romaincrisis
germansingergirl