i’ve got another confession, my friend.
i’m no fool.
you played me. i was just something to pass the time. i wasn’t anything to you, besides someone to replace her. and now, i’m hurt. you were so careless with my feelings.
at first, i thought—thank you for proving to me that love isn’t real; that no matter what, i won’t get what i deserve; that i’m done giving, only to be broken.
then i realized something.
stop being a fool.
maybe it won’t happen today. maybe it won’t even happen this year. but that’s okay. i’m okay living as just me, myself, and i. i’ve always thought that maybe my standards are too high. i expect a lot out of a person. but is that so wrong? to know what i want? i want you to have a job and a car. i want you to have ambitions. i want you to want to be successful. it seems simple. but it’s much harder to find than you’d think.
