Dearest love,
There's this boy who has been on my mind lately, but I know he isn't you. I know that he is kind but I know he is much more interested in if I'm wearing clothing or not. Yet I am still his when I know that I don't want to be.
I don't see stars in his eyes or love in his smile. Nor do I see cosmos when I look deeply into his eyes- so deep that it could be his soul. Instead all I see is a mediocre life.
There is nothing that excites me about him, I don't feel like I've been struck with lighting. I feel nothing but the way you feel when you wake up on a Sunday morning after a boring Saturday night.
I am not in love with him, but then I realize that this is a part of moving on. I'll try and I'll fail. But then I remember that after the end, it is two people who move on. Not just one, two people always move on.
I use to hate the thought of another girl telling you that she loves her. I use to hate the thought of another lover's lips on yours. But now it doesn't even bother me. I just hate the thought of someone treating you badly.
I don't like the idea of another girl telling you to shut up because she didn't like one of your jokes. I don't like the idea of a girl cheating on you and hurting someone so sweet and gentle like you.
I mostly hate the idea of someone insufficient for you. Someone who would only let you down in life. And that's when I realized that I was that girl, and so I decided that I was over you. I was over it entirely. I was that girl who would tell you to shut up because I didn't like your jokes, I was the girl who was insufficient.
I am the girl who doesn't give you butterflies or makes you shiver delight. I am not your dearest love. And that's okay, because every day our dearest love changes.
So this is where it ends. You are no longer my dearest love. I was never yours.
Yours truly,
Her
