Why should you be my priority when it is so evident that all I am is an option, a safe choice, or a late night ritual to boost your ego?
Who am I to place my palm on your cheek, stare deep into your eyes, and adore the person that I consider a gift, when all you see when you look at me is just someone you tolerate on a good day, and run to on a bad day when you have nobody else left to confide in?
I stand in front of you expecting your racing heartbeat to match mine, your undeniable excitement building as mine is. But instead you're stone faced, lacking any emotion, and certainly not mirroring mine.
Modern day relationships should just be called mysteries. Because all we have are endless questions, it's all just a guessing game. We never know our place, our label, our own sense of identity.
We often stir up our own expectations, not considering that there is more than just us involved. Our palms get sweaty, our hearts jumping through our throats with only one person on our minds, without stopping to wonder whether or not we are being thought of at all.
So me and every other girl are waiting for unanswered texts while you casually enjoy yourself with others knowing that we'll be here whenever you get around to caring about us, if you ever do.
What makes you so special? Who gave you all this power?
Who are you that gets to decide whether or not to make or break me? To you I'm an option, a choice, a place holder.
But I won't allow myself to be the option of someone who refuses to see me as a priority.
Because being an option was never part of my fairy tale and it never will be.
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