The truth is, I should have never called.
Actually, I should have never given you my number.
I had the best of intentions.
But good intentions often yield disastrous results.
My great mistake.
And now I’m paying for it.
I’m feeling very foolish right now.
I want to beg you to pick me.
To choose me.
To love me.
And leave her.
But I refuse.
I refuse to ask for that.
Or to put you in that spot.
Not because of pride.
I have no pride when it comes to you.
I just know it’s not fair for me to ask for that.
And asking for that wouldn’t change anything.
So I quiet my tongue.
I bite down and draw blood.
Trying to restrain myself.
Fighting against my nature.
But I’m desperate.
It hurts so bad not being with you.
To not share with you, trying to go on without you.
To think that those fantasies, the plans we made, the things you said, will never come true.
Even though I could taste them, I could feel them.
Even though you became a part of my daily life.
You were my favorite part of it.
Now I’m supposed to accept that it’s all gone.
That you’ve taken it back.
Your words, your love, your affection.
Now reserved for someone else.
But I loved you instantly.
Loved you for just being you.
And I would never have taken you for granted.
Because I recognized how special you are.
And it didn’t take me long to see that or to want you.
All of you.
And I was willing to dedicate myself.
I surrendered, I was yours to have.
Openly. Honestly. Completely.
So it feels unfair.
That I gave and give, that I love you so much.
But you changed your mind.
And stayed with her.
She gets the claim on you.
To keep you.
And I can’t fight it.
Or else I would.
I would burn it to the ground trying.
I would claw, cling, plead.
But I have no rights.
Because you belong to her.
Which trumps everything.
And because I know you,
you will make it work.
Even if it’s not how you want it, you’ll stick with it.
That’s just who you are.
But we could have been good together.
I think we would have been happy.
We almost had that.
But everybody knows, almost doesn’t count.
So I cry as much for that lost future as I do for you.
Because I love you.
And I probably always will.
And maybe you’ll still love me with half a heart.
But half a heart does no one any good.
You will move on, continue with your life.
Daily routine as usual.
While I lay here, floored and paralyzed.
Slowly gathering up the pieces.
Who’s the heartbreaker now?
*in case you were wondering, yes, I borrowed “almost doesn’t count” from Brandy’s 1998 song of the same name. It’s quite appropriate for how I’m feeling. Here are the lyrics:
And yes, I’m very pathetic at the moment. But I won’t always be.