It all started two years ago when you took my heart without permission. Like it was nothing to you, like you didn’t even care. But to me, it was everything, and all in one look. One look, and I was hooked for good.
I felt your hand, you kissed my lips. You were mine. Until you weren’t. Until you hit me with an atomic bomb that there was someone else. A real person, a real girl just like me, sitting at home waiting for a phone call from her boyfriend. The same guy that was touching my hands and kissing my lips. The same guy that was mine.
I wanted to hate you more than anything and I tried. I never wanted to be that girl, I really didn’t. But you made it so hard for me, you teased me, you made me love you. It wasn’t fair, but you never were. You said you “wanted” me, and you could’ve had me, but you chose not to, and I didn’t understand.
For two years I have been here at your disposal. I convinced myself that I what I was doing was morally wrong because of her. Because she was there and I was here. I guess I’ve always known it wouldn’t work, that at the end of the day I would always be home alone, waiting for your text message, and you would be there. I would be here and you would be there. I knew that it wasn’t fair, what you were doing. And I knew that nothing was going to change. I knew it all, I always have. I tried to convince myself that I didn’t know, that it was all just a process of my self discovery, of an attempt to get what I deserve. I thought I deserved you, but I guess I don’t. I know I deserve better than waiting for you. I am beautiful and I know that. I do.
I hate you for using me.
I hate you for lying to me.
I hate you for making me love you.
I hate you for making her love you.
I hate when you touch me like you care.
I hate you’re text messages.
I hate when you tell me you want to be with me, when you can, and you’re not.
I hate your profile pictures with her and you’re relationship status.
I hate that she will always be better.
I hate that you choose her every time.
I hate how you act so innocent, like none of it is in your control.
I hate how you’re so scared to take a chance on me.
I hate that you won’t let me forget you.
I hate that you don’t want me to move on.
Who am I kidding?
I still love you.