It hurts sometimes.
To know that I’m not enough for you. That I’ll probably never be enough; to make you stop, to make you see me, to make you want to be with me. I try to put it out of my mind and most of the times it works. But then I’ll hear a song; the guitar strings twinge and cause a pang in my heart. I’ll hear a specific set of words; the sound of them brushing past will remind me of something you once whispered in my ear. Or I’ll see someone that reminds me of you and I’ll look away; avert my eyes so they don’t see the longing in them.
Sometimes I think your only goal in life is self-sabotage and I wonder why you feel like you need to bring yourself harm. You hide it under the guise of something that you need to do for yourself but when given the choice, who chooses to be a tortured soul above being loved? Being wanted? I want to tell you that I know you’re unhappy deep down inside but what do I know? After all, I thought I could make you happy, didn’t I? And I failed. Obviously.
Maybe it’s all in my head. The happiness we were once able to bask in together. I’m always afraid of being hurt but if I’m truly honest with myself, I fully expect, nay, accept that I will get hurt, no matter the circumstances. Isn’t that sad? What was that about not choosing to be a tortured soul?
Yeah, I contradict myself sometimes. A lot of times actually. I say, “I love being single” but one moment in his arms has me thinking of never having to be alone again. I say I’ll always put friends before family because I’ve been hurt by the latter time and time again. But the moment I look into her eyes, a part of me collapses in shame for never wanting to understand why she was the way she was.
I say a lot of things, I think a lot of things too.
It hurts sometimes. To know that I’m not enough.