I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough for you. Im sorry I interrupted your life with my presence. I’m sorry I’m so numb to this pain. You see you’re not the first one to break my heart. It started with the man who whispered sweet nothings in Mama’s ear. The man that was supposed to be my first love, my Daddy. At least that’s what society says, that’s what them bullshit memes on social media say. All these damn Daddy’s girls sharing them shits, rubbing his absence in. I don’t wanna see that shit on my timeline. I’m still waiting for my Daddy to dial my line. As I’m waiting for him, to go back in time and fix his mistakes, fix me. Disrupt this heartbreak. But my patience is to no avail instead, I’m spending this time writing to you.
I’ve always been on the search for someone better than my Daddy. Someone who’d love me unconditionally. Someone who took the time to count my tears and learn every reason each one fell. Someone who’d embrace me, as I embraced my flaws. I was searching for a miracle. Mr. Perfect. Because the more I looked for someone not like him, the more I found ones just like him. The someone’s who whispered sweet nothings in my ear. Mommy warned me what those sounded like, but I ignored her. She couldn’t keep him, so how dare she teach me how to keep them. The someone’s would leave at the first sign of turmoil, no fight in them. Abandonment. The someone’s would sleep around with other women, no loyalty. Infidelity. The someone’s would make me feel as if I was crazy for speaking up for myself, despite their level of compassion. Daddy.
And then I met you.
You took the time to know me. I mean really know me. And I’m not talking about that ‘What’s your favorite color?” small talk. I’m talking sitting on the roof at 2am, looking off into the universe, floating to another galaxy. Aligning my heartbeat with your lub-dub. I’m talking “I don’t know” tears, as you continue to hold me near because all I needed was someone here. I’m talking laughing at all my corny jokes, brushing off my sarcasm & calling me out to on my bullshit. Privately. Exploring my privates, inspecting each blemish, kissing each scar. Capturing my soul as a mate should.
And then I met the real you.
You never really loved me, it was just something to say. Ya know like, when someone ask “how are you?” And you reply “fine” even when your world is falling apart. My shit crumbled, cracks beneath my feet as I struggled to not get sucked in. Too bad it’s too late. Im drowning in your tsunami of lies and the only thing strong enough to save me, is you. The old you. The You I feel in love with a few years ago. Not this asshole you’ve become. You took all my mishaps and modernized them. Deja vu. Somethings from the past should stay there. I should’ve never told you about my Daddy, I should’ve never told you about my someone’s. Because now you’re one.
I’m fighting hard to forgive you. You know I always forgive. The longer I hold onto the pain, the heavier my load gets. I’m not your fucking bag lady. Come get your shit. And get this letter too, you piece of shit.