I don’t think love is designed for me. I’m not the kind of girl with consistency or a good sense of sanity. In all honesty, I am beyond depressed and underdeveloped yet crazed with academic prowess, curiosity, goofiness, and naivete. It is too much. Too much to handle, too much to love. If I picked a couple of these qualities maybe I could fit into the box you could love. Maybe if I grazed the comforters with a touch of wisdom, femininity, and extroversion which I failed to provide.
Or perhaps proper knowledge of the things us “adults” are supposed to be aware of. Taxes, small talk(but not too small unless it’s boring), the perfect career(but don’t do too much or be too lucrative unless you’re still boring and don’t have a life outside of it). Boring. Why do you choose to live your life snuggling up in a box and refuse to go outside? But to you I am the boring one.
Not worth my time. Not worth your time. Why choose me when the internet has endless possibilities, when my face doesn’t fit the similarities which is your preference when it comes to peculiarities? You chose all of the settings and I let you play. I was perfect in the beginning. “Smart, beautiful, kind, funny, and brave.” But when I speak of organic chemistry, put on a dress that fits too snug, correct you when you are unkind, make a joke that makes your friends cry of laughter, and have the willingness to go to the end of the world with you, I am too much. Smart, beautiful, kind, funny, brave. Too much of it? Not enough of it? You said you liked it. That was all I had and that was real.
Who were you to judge and leave so fast without giving me a chance? Why did you have to tear me down in the process and prey on my delicacy? You knew I hid my insecurities well you knew I held so much together while losing the glue in action; still you pretended to support and always mentioned your satisfaction
What I grieve is not that you left me but that you tore me down to break us apart.
You stole my glue, you stole my smart, beautiful, kind, funny, brave. Boring. So many things you did not have to say. In the end, we can all leave relationships or stay. But how you left perhaps says more about you than it does about me.
Why comment on my essence when you didn’t take time to learn about it and be present? You brought my turn in the conversations back to you in an instant. Why did I love you anyways? You were the first to give me a taste… I guess first impressions are not always true, and this is what I learned after all you put me through. I digress love can be designed for me; if I learn to conquer my naivete.