Excuse me for a second. I need to breath. It feels like every time I try to see myself clearly, i’m wiping a mirror that keeps fogging up. I remember you promise to do that, but they blur everything. and in the middle of trying believe you, i cant even see what’s underneath me anymore.
I keep remembering how i tried make patience look beautiful. i dressed it in perfume, softened my voice, slowed my steps, because i didnt wanna make anything hard for you.
meanwhile you walked around wearing your ego like it was specially tailored to you, sharp, clean, comfortable, like it never once weighed you down.
sometimes i think about all the parts of myself i dimmed just to keep you around. favorite colors, dreams that i was scared to touch. i burned them out.
for you, only.
it’s embarrassing to admit it now, but I tred to become the kind of girl you said you liked.
the one that misbehave, who stay unpredictable, who feel like trouble in a pretty shape.
i tried baby, i tried. and you didn’t even notice me. for you it was just a fun game.
but sadly i fell through it.
fell straight into the version of you I made up in my head darling.
and then there is this strange thought i cant shake: is that your ghost in the place where i used to sleep?
not you, just the reflection of what i hoped you were.
because somehow i feel robbed by the things i gave willingly. i spoke in gentle sacred tones, hoping you’d hear the truth in them. but you only caught in the surface. you treated my heart like a cliché.
and when i look back, i see how much of my life i spent reharsing grace. trying not to offend, not to hurt, not to be “too much”.
i bit my tongue so many times to safe your pride baby.
you wanted worship. i wanted honesty. but i still lowered myself and prayed that love could make me new.
like a child who still believe in magic. just for you.
i noticed girls like me everywhere. lonely, glitter-eyed. trying too hard to shine in ways that wont scare men away.
we spin in circles, smiling until we disappear.
we try to be adored, to be chosen, to be enough. and the saddest part is how quietly you stopped clapping. how little it took for you to lose interest.
i stripped everything unnecessary from my words, peeled them raw, left them honest, hoping it would reach you. but it didn’t. nothing did.
and now i understand something i didnt before. love isn’t courtesy, love isnt playing polite. love isnt me shrinking so you can feel bigger in the room.
so if i walk ahead this time, if i finally stop waiting at the door, dont call me rude, dont call me cold. im just done teaching myself how to stay small. for a man who never knew how to stay.
im done waiting. for you..
