I always want the things I can't have because thinking that I don't deserve them makes me high like nothing else. I'm a pathetic martyr who wallows in her own self-pity over the never ending feelings of inadequacy, taking long warm showers to dilute all the voluntary teardrops from her eyes.
In October he went to New York to visit his aunt. I stayed behind in a city that more and more came to resemble a prison, once again. He wrote to me. He sent me a real handwritten letter with little stamps and stickers on it, just to say that he missed me where he was . He wrote all the sparkling autumn leaves in Central Park loose their color next to you.
I guess I should have been glad, but I don't function like that. I knew he was talking to someone else, that even though he wrote my dearest Avy, I was in fact just a reflection of what he really wanted and deserved. I always knew I wasn't enough, that I would never be anything more than a waste of his amazing affection, a hollow face for a perfect love.
I knew it was time.
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Time for what? Haha, you always leave us in suspense. I really love these "On Love" posts, they are so meaningful and well written.
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xx,
~Abby~
I wanted to write - don't we all want the things we don't deserve, but the second part of that first sentence stopped me...Because not everyone gets this feeling you wrote about. I do, but I'd never find a good words to say what I mean. That's why it's so great that you write about it in your blog...
ReplyDeleteI wish I could write like you.
ReplyDeleteYou are amazing.
xo
ah, i know what it's live to not be enough. but trust me, you are more than enough.
ReplyDeleteIt is fortunate that you knew it was time. Why let it hurt you more.
ReplyDeleteSecretia
you're writing is beautiful
ReplyDeletei'm definitely following
www.myspineisthebassline.blogspot.com
god i love your blog.
ReplyDeletei found this so sad...