It’s Hard

It’s hard to always be that one person,
The one who loves so much and cares so much,
The one always waiting patiently for someone whenever they need their time,
The one who helps others but is left behind afterwards,
The one who hopes with all their heart that things would be different only to be proven right again,
That you are nothing more than some doll that someone plays with till they’re bored,
The same doll that gets left behind to gather dust,
And wondering why are you always doomed to be left behind?
Are you cursed?
Is it something you’ve said?
Were you just not good enough?
Why must you always have your heart broken into many pieces by those who claim to love you?
Do I smell or something?
And then when they decide to tug you back like a yo-yo when things go to hell for them and you just can’t help feeling the inner turmoil of wanting to embrace them, taking their pain away while also wanting to tell them to go fuck themselves!
You want so badly to hate them, but you know that you can’t because you love them so much …
That even though they deserve to be treated the way they treated you, you’re incapable of doing so ‘cause you’re not that way …
But it’s hard to trust them ever again,
To view them the way they once were your eyes …
While on the other hand, you still care/love them so much in spite of everything and it makes you sick …
Sick to your stomach that you allow this because there’s this dread now at the back of your mind that they’ll tire of you once more and disappear (most likely permanently) the second time around …
And your heart will always carry those fragments … the fractures left from learning that you’re basically nothing to them …
That you’re nothing more than a filler,
A temp,
An expendable,
Something to temporarily keep them warm till they run away again,
Leaving you in the dust one last time to pursue the next nice-looking diamond that crosses their sight …
And your heart just shatters, not only because you know that you’ll probably never see them again …
But that the hardest thing that you realize that you’ll probably love them, even after everything …
You’ll still love them …

 

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