The Story Ends Here

By , Concord, NH
It's time for me to admit a lot of things...things that have haunted me for far too long. I know to the public seems not like the ideal way to do so and normally I'd advise people of that as well, but I have thought this through and it is. I need to make this information known, make myself vulnerable, make things real. I need to accept these things as reality. I need to do a lot of things and I NEED to try harder. For one, excuses, he doesn't deserve my excuses. He doesn't deserve me in any form, including my time or energy or tears. I mean it. I'm having trouble telling myself that but it IS the truth.

I've spent oh...almost three years trying to prove myself worthy when really now I realize, I always have been. I have always been more than worthy of him but sometimes people just don't realize a beautiful opportunity. People miss their opportunity, it happens all the time and I'm saying for real this time, his is gone. I will say, I still want him to realize it so he can hurt as much as I'm still hurting. So he can feel so stupid and so worthless like he is, for not giving me the respect I deserve. I can accept unreturned love, even if it hurts, but it's unacceptable that I put up with the amount of disrespect from him that I did for so long because I was clinging to a friendship which I now ask myself...did it even really exist...should it have? I confided so much in him. I put so many hours of thought and energy into tip-toeing around what would hurt him, what would make him distance himself from me that I hurt myself all the more and it's over.

The part probably most shameful in all this is that I never told him I loved him and I told someone else that. I regret that. I regret pushing aside (no matter how irrational, but real) feelings and convincing myself I cared for someone else. In the end they didn't care for me, but that isn't important because I was doing something very similar to what he was doing and for that I am SO sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't realize it then, but if it counts for anything, I do now. Even if this person too has contributed to my lack of trust, my feelings of perpetual betrayal by the opposite sex, I should have known better.

I loved him. I don't now. My heart is still breaking but it will heal and not from his realizations, but from my growth and moving forward. I am worthy of respect and I am not looking for it from him any longer. It makes me cry, to give up on something that I tried so hard for so long to prove but the truth is, I'm growing up I'm realizing who I am and what I deserve. I don't think he's a bad person, I wouldn't have fallen in love with someone who is a bad person, he just hasn't found himself. I can't blame him for that but he is still responsible for his actions and under no circumstance am I responsible for them. I protected and tried to help him. I cried to him. I was so vulnerable and honest yet I dealt with insults, belittling. For so long I took these things as jokes because I know somewhere deep down on a twisted and far away level, it was, but it still hurt. If on some level he cared it doesn't matter because he failed for three years to communicate any form of respect, gratitude. Life is a game to him. He doesn't worry about losing someone who would never lie to him. He doesn't want to accept the truth and I am always ready to. I am. And that is, it is time to be done babysitting him and to stop protecting myself from hurting and to FORCE myself to grow and learn, to STOP clinging to someone who is NOT worth my time. No more unlimited chances because unlimited chances just means unlimited stabs at my heart.


Dramatic, yea. But, as drama free as I wish I was, this melo-drama has existed in my life for almost three years. It's nice to put it in print. To kiss it goodbye from my head, my body, my being. To let go. To grow. To take my own advice and to live free from him. Free from Nick. Free from the trap I have kept myself caged in for so long. I'm giving myself a chance at something, anything and it's pretty damn exciting.





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