I seem to attract the wrong kind of guy.
I seem to be attracted to the wrong kind of guys.
Well, there is that whole thing where, I’m only attracted to guys that don’t openly like me.
That might be where the real problem lies.
Because then I wind up talking to the ones who leave me at concerts, desert me in coffee shops, don’t answer phone calls, cancel at the last minute.
Or I think I’m safe talking to the ones who just want to be friends, but who then slip into more than friendly conversations, apologize for too forward remarks, request to simply spend time with me, but seem to have no idea what they are looking for or what friendship is, and don’t understand why I am not comfortable with certain situations.
It’s easier just to blame myself. I make bad choices. I trust too much. I want to believe them.
If I blame myself then I don’t have to cut them out of my life.
I don’t have to be utterly alone.
I can just be repeatedly disappointed.
I think I need to stand up for myself. I think I need to stop the people trampling all over me and my feelings, but what do I matter really? What does it matter if I let them walk all over me, if I let them string me along, if I am always there for them and they are never there for me, what does it matter if I hurt?
It’s only pain. I’ll get over it.
I just wish…I wish there was one. Just one who didn’t hurt me so much with his thoughtlessness, carelessness. One who thought about me almost as much as I thought about him. One who considered my feelings. One who thought about his actions and their potential repercussions. One who I didn’t have to keep making excuses for.
They say that love is about seeing the other person’s flaws and accepting them anyway, loving them anyway. But it’s not love when the other person is simply hurting you, and isn’t even trying to love back. When they don’t even know what love is, when you try to love, but your being their just encourages them to keep doing the same selfish things over and over again. It isn’t love. I can love them, but not this way. They don’t deserve me talking to them. They don’t deserve me interacting with them. It doesn’t help either of us. I’m an enabler, who’s not strong enough to tell them that they have to change, who lets us both keep getting hurt.
I’m not required to be their friend. I’m not required to be their confidant. I’m not required to be there for them. I’m not responsible for them. I can’t be. I can’t control them. I can’t do these things. I can pray. I can pray like crazy.
But I can’t handle them. I can’t handle the disappointment. Not anymore.
Am I wrong?
Is this what a relationship is? I’m a person of convenience. There when they need me.
They don’t understand me.
Did I give them a chance to?
I don’t want to.
It’s too late, and I hurt, and I just want them to go away.
Because I can’t handle their problems and mine. I can’t handle mine.
I can’t handle them wanting to be with me. To get to know me. I don’t want to get to know them. I don’t want to know what I’ll find out.
I’m “cute”. Thanks. You “enjoy talking” to me. Thanks. You tell me your troubles and I listen. You listen when I explain how you messed up. You don’t understand. You brush it off. I’m flawed. There’s something wrong with me that I didn’t get that joke. There’s something wrong with me that I don’t want to hang out alone with you, I’m insulting you, it hurts your feelings that I feel that way.
Why do I feel that way? Do you think about that?
Do you think about me?
I responded because you asked me if I was okay. I explained myself. You didn’t understand. You don’t understand. Why do I keep giving you chances when you don’t understand. I’m not perfect. I’m not strong. You’re not worth it. I’m sorry. I’m not perfect. You’re not worth the corruption of my soul. Not that it would happen. But slowly. Chip by chip. Defenses down. This is okay, maybe that isn’t wrong, if he doesn’t believe this, why do I? It’s not worth it, because I already know that I don’t want to be like you. I’m sorry. I don’t. We are two different people, and I’m trying to become less selfish and less hurtful, and all interactions with you, make me hurt, make me doubt, make me question, make me distrust…Is it less selfish to keep letting you test me? To keep letting you try to figure me out? I don’t know. But all I seem to do when I talk to you is listen to your pain, and listen to the compliments, and wonder what I am doing, because ultimately I feel confused. And I don’t want to be like you, because it seems that all you are is selfish and hurtful. I don’t want to be that way, but I think that’s what I’d start to become.