01 октомври, 2015

for handing you a heart worth breaking

I'm done. You can come, you can go. I won't do a thing about it. I'm done fighting. I'm done trying. Because sure as hell almost no one would do the same and because I'm tired of trying to prove to people I'm worth it, or to make them see why I am worth it, or whatever. Fine, I'm not. I don't have to turn my world upside-down to make a point. I don't have to fit into your ideas of what a girl should be, or a friend should be. I'm allowed to be stupid, to make mistakes and you can hate me for it, you can judge, but you can't make me feel like crap any time I do something other than you'd do in my place. Let's face it. You're not me. You'd never survive a day in my shoes. You think not giving a damn about anything sucks. Well, no. It's sucks when you care too much and people take advantage of that. 
So I'm taking your damn advice and using it against you. If you wanted to, you would have made an effort. Hell, you would have given me a chance the way I did with you. You chose a side and it wasn't mine. Or you were even a bigger coward that I thought and you didn't make a choice at all. Either way, it's also a decision. And I'll take it. I'm done making excuses for you. Or anyone else for that matter. If I can be here even though half the time if not all I feel like drowning, then you sure as hell can be here too.
I need to be around people who care at least half as much as I do. Who like me would feel guilty for not being there when they had to. Who will make sure I know it. Anything less is not worth my time and effort. I'm done saving space for people who are not sure if they want it. Some bridges are only there because I keep them, hoping someone crosses them. And surprise! They almost never do. And it's pointless and disappointing. I'm all out of chances. I gave them all to people who didn't deserve them, you included. I can't keep turning the world upside down and calling it fate. Even if I can, I don't feel like it. So, whatever, you know. You won't even find out about my choice anyway. What difference does it make? None, which exactly what made me write all this. 
I have very few pieces that are still whole and I'd like to keep it that way. I gave too much to people who couldn't care less. No amount of regret can fix that. But it's not my fault you wasted your chance. You were right. We wouldn't be friends if you lived elsewhere. Hell, we wouldn't be anything. We're the same when it comes to a lot of things but different all the same. Still, you showed up that night without even knowing how much I needed that. And you surprised me in the best way possible. I'm grateful for it. The rest is fate and it always sucks, so.

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