True Sadness

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I feel so desolate sometimes, laying next to you. I've never felt so unlike myself in my entire life. I thought I had crafted the perfect identity for myself; I was looking forward to a future with her. But now, I feel empty.

I was an artist, a writer, a poet, a runner, and athlete, a daughter, a hiker, and reader, a designer, and drummer, an academic. I was sharp, caustic, clever, and confident.

I knew exactly who I wanted to be. And then you came along, and sort of ripped right through me with love and acceptance and a radiant light I'd never experienced before. I ended up loving you more than I've ever loved myself. You are my best friend, and I began to find comfort and solace in you.

I become your girlfriend. I became a shitty paralegal who makes 24 dollars an hour. Who makes mistakes on a consistent basis and constantly feels stupid amongst her peers, including you.

You don't do anything on purpose, but you make me feel so stupid. I feel so inadequate with you, like I owe you something for your presence. I don't want this animosity either, because you were the best thing that's ever happened to me.

I love you more than anything, so I guess it's all me.

I'm done with the self hatred, the crying, and demeaning. I'm destroying myself from the inside out. I won't take credit for anything because I don't think I deserve it.

I want to be confident again, but I've stolen my own independence.

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