We Wrote The Stars

Contemplating

I've been debating... Continuing this for a while. It's difficult to let myself feel what I need to feel about the entire situation. It's difficult to recognize what's happening. It's difficult to truly let myself know who you are and what you do to me. Because that's love. Only... It was only me loving you. Never you loving me. And how could you? Every part of me was handed over so easily to you in trust, faith, devotion, loyalty, and love. How could you have respected someone or be humane towards them when they cherished you, loved you, appreciated you, prioritized you when they were the only person who stood up for you. It's only natural that you'd take advantage and manipulate me. That you'd do the bare minimum to keep me around. I was the only one there for you when she left. When the accident with the trunk happened, who did you talk to? When you were sick with worry over something, who held you and helped? Who had her entire family willing to take you in? Who planned everything to try and keep us together? Who gave you everything she could? Who stood up for you and protected you even after you fucking... did that... Who left every single one of her friends for you? Who sat through 'scares' alone and stayed with you? Who let you never speak to her for days and still begged you to stay? Who sat with you when you were alone? Who held you when you were alone? Who called you while you slept so you weren't alone? Who sat through every lie you told and tried desperately to believe you? Who did your work when you didn't want to? Who organized all your things? Who stayed up with you until 3 am? Who stuck with you for two years? Who dealt with your laziness, your unreliability, your BULLSHIT? You never prioritized me. Never. And now you think you can hold onto me, have me love you and be there for you when you don't do the same for me. Yesterday was a horrible day for me, for reasons you knew. But you ignored me. You entered her life again. But here's the reality. I'm not mad at her. She doesn't care about you, she couldn't give less of a shit about you. But I'm mad that I did. I cared about you. I was, as I always had been, the only person who was there for you. But you still pushed it and took advantage. That's over. Everything. You're on your own now. I want nothing to do with you. Because you're not a good person. Not to me. You're no different than any other teenage boy. You're exactly the same, if not worse.