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The Day I Felt Like I Wasn't Good Enough
The night the “Other woman” texted me, I didn’t think it was true. I called her a liar. With my head in my hands and my heart feeling likes a thousand drums in my chest, I told her to show me proof, and show me proof she did.
As I waited on my porch, sitting on my old, wooden swing, I waited for the response of this other woman. She sent me every message they ever exchanged, including the ones that made my heart feel as if someone ripped it from my chest, he told her that he loved her.
As I sat there on the porch swing at 1AM, with my hands holding my head, my knees tight against my chest, and tears pouring down my face, the feeling that I was never gonna be good enough for anyone started creeping in my head and heart.
As I texted him with the teardrops pouring down on my phone, and my eyes so filled with my tears that I could barely see what I was typing. Never had I ever felt this pain before, I have been broken up with, but I’ve never cried over a guy like this before. I very rarely cry, so if I ever cry, you know I’m truly hurting.
I cried all night that night until I literally had no tears to cry. My stomach felt as if I had just been hit with a bowling ball hundreds of times, my eyes felt as if I had stared at the sun all day, and my pillow, was as if I had taken it and dipped it in the ocean. If you didn’t love me or wanted to be with me or loved someone else, why couldn’t he have just broken up with me instead of cheating? And how can he do that and then act like his world is perfectly fine while mine feels as if everything I had was destroyed? My confidence, self-respect, self-love, courage, strength, and some of my independance was gone. My brain wouldn’t function, my grades dropped tremendously for just a week, I just couldn’t even think about anything.
Knowing that while we were doing our own relationship, he was doing his relationship with someone else. While I was giving every single drop of love I had, he was giving every bit of his to her. Never have I ever felt this low. Why wasn’t I good enough? Why wasn’t I just enough? These are the thoughts that went through my head this night. With my brokenhearted, cracking voice, I told him to never talk to me again. He never knew all of the damage he caused that night. And he will probably never know. But how could he walk away so okay, while I had to force myself just to get out of bed the next morning because I laid awake until 6am crying. Why wasn’t I enough?
But they’re together now, even though she’s the one who told me. She hates me now, and that’s okay, because I want her to. I want her to look at me as a threat, and I want her to look at me as if I’m her greatest enemy, because I can’t look at her, and her smile at me, without thinking why he couldn’t have just chosen me. I hope he was happy with his choice.
Afterwards, around 2 or 3 weeks later, I was sitting at the trophy case with Shay on one side and Sierra on the other, I looked at him standing there talking to another girl I was told not to worry about. Her hair looked like a tomato, her eyes were as blue as the sky, and with the way she dressed she looked like a Monster High doll. But in that moment I felt myself so angry at him because he either didn’t see or he didn’t care about all of the damage he did to me and it just hit me, why am I so angry? If he doesn’t care I shouldn’t either right? Well no, not exactly. It’s not that easy. Just because he’s heartless doesn’t mean I should be either, so I took a deep breath, I found a little bit of strength, and I got up, walked with a little confidence, and sat somewhere else. I would always want to be around him no matter how hurt I felt, and I always wanted to see him but I couldn’t move on seeing his brown hair and green eyes with that smile everyday. I felt like I had just used every bit of strength I had just to get up and move. I didn’t want to, but I knew I had to.
The bell had rang to go to 3rd, I found myself not even wanting to move. My legs felt as if I were paralyzed, my hands so sweaty as if i had just washed them, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but somehow I did. Each step I took I was preparing myself to have to look at him on my way to class, he would say my name or say anything or do anything, and I would just laugh like nothing was wrong to keep from crying. But I didn’t have to look at him. I didn’t have to respond. He knew exactly what he was doing, he didn’t want to let me go. It’s kinda like that saying “Don’t leave her if you can’t let her go” well you know what, don’t hurt her if you can’t let her go either. Because if she has enough strength she’ll let you go. It may take hours, days, weeks, or even months but she’ll find a way and when she does you’re gonna miss her, you’re gonna wish as if you’d never have done something like that to her, and finally you’ll feel what she felt.
Right now, she’s typing this paper, hoping that by actually explaining how she felt, she might actually be able to move on. Because it wasn’t her loss, it was his. She lost someone who didn’t truly love her, while he lost someone who would’ve given him the world.