I’ve been asking myself, why did you make me play the role of the fool? It’s only recently that I’ve realized I’m the one to blame; I allowed you to make me a fool. In doing so, I made an even bigger fool of myself.
When I met you, I was not in the best place. I don’t think you ever knew that. I spent months trying to articulate why I was such a mess and it wasn’t until very recently that I figured out how to do so. I met you when I was lost. I didn’t have much of a self concept anymore, I allowed myself to lose all sense of happiness and all sense of worth. I didn’t know how to feel anymore; the things I once loved — I had lost the passion for, the people I loved dearly — I was pushing away from me. All I felt was a sort of numb tinted with pure sadness. It’s a hard feeling to describe but it’s certainly one I’ll never forget.
During my darkest moment I met you. I don’t know why I was so damn drawn to you. We talked and we laughed until the early hours of the morning when you had to leave. For the first time in months, I had felt some sort of happiness around you and I didn’t want that to go away. I fell in love with the feeling you gave me — not you. That was mistake number one.
For the first few months, things were great. You talked to me like I mattered; we would sometimes even text until 4am before one of us fell asleep. I visited a second time and I thought seeing you again was like a breath of fresh air. That night, we sat in the rain and talked until 2am before you took me back to the same apartment we had met in. I became addicted to being around you and even more addicted to that feeling — that happiness. Unfortunately for me, we live hours apart and I allowed my desperation for happiness to cloud my judgement. That was mistake number two.
I don’t know what it was about you that gave me that feeling but I fell so damn hard for you. I was in love with the feeling, though there were certainly strong feelings present for you as well. I saw every ounce of good in you and that was all I saw. I’m very good at seeing the good in people and ignoring the bad, except this time you explicitly told me that you weren’t as good as I had believed you to be. I thought you were just being modest, the truth is though you were just being honest. When someone tells you who they are, you have to believe them; and that was mistake number three.
You told me on multiple occasions that you weren’t the person I believed you to be because all I saw was good. I guess I should’ve listened a little bit better. I thought that I needed you though. I mean, I wasn’t entirely wrong. I did need you; but not in the way that I had initially believed I did. It wasn’t even necessarily you that I needed. I needed someone to finish what I had started. I needed you to break my heart, to burn down what little bit of me there had been left when we met; the small pieces of me I had failed in breaking on my own.
I needed to play the fool who came back to you on numerous occasions because there was still a little bit of fight left in me. You know why I needed that? I had forgotten what it meant to make yourself happy. I had forgotten who I was, forgotten the passions that drove me. I needed to be completely torn down so I could build myself up even stronger than before.
Even with the new, stronger me, I had to play the fool one last time. We hadn’t spoken in two months — in fact, if we’re being honest you hardly crossed my mind but when you did; it stung. The wounds weren’t officially healed and I suppose that’s because I don’t know how to turn off caring for someone. Despite the countless reasons you gave me to hate you, there wasn’t a single part of me that did hate you. I still cared and one night, I decided I needed to know if there was any part of you that still cared too. So, I reached out and while I wasn’t surprised by your complete radio silence, I was surprised at how deeply the knife cut.
One last break and I was done. I still don’t understand how after a whole summer of whatever happened, you don’t care. Maybe, it’s because you never cared to begin with. I recall you telling me, the first time you broke my heart, you said “I’m not going anywhere.” Three months later and here we are, it’s been two months since we’ve spoken and you couldn’t care less.
One more of your countless empty promises. I hate to admit the way that hurts me, but you know what? It’s because I care and there will always be a small part of me that does because at one point you did make me happy — however misplaced it may have been.
Let me tell you something else, I’ve come to realize that it isn’t my loss. It’s yours. I believed you deserved the entire world and I would’ve moved mountains to give it to you. I thought you were extraordinary and I believed I could have fallen straight into love with you. I lost a boy who didn’t care for me, but you lost a girl who would’ve done anything to see you happy. In a weird way, I came out of this the winner — not you.
You deserve to be thanked though. Thank you for breaking my heart because had you not, I would still be that empty shell of a girl who was just desperate to feel something. Instead, I’ve learned to be happy again, I’ve found my passions once more, and even though I break sometimes still because I’m not perfect, I’m a lot stronger than I was when I met you.
He might have played me, but I know better now, and I won’t allow myself to give my heart to someone who doesn’t not appreciate it.