Why is it that the best people sometimes make the worst choices, even when they know it’s wrong? Does it mean that they weren’t really the best person in the first place? Stephen Chbosky wrote, “We accept the love we think we deserve.” I agreed with this for so long, but I’m not so sure anymore. Because I knew that I deserved better than him, but I fell for him anyway. Everything and everyone around me told me not to. I should have listened.
But what was I supposed to do? He was everything that I wanted. He was everything that I needed. He was funny, charming, and it never felt like he didn’t care. With him, it never felt like I was being ignored. Whenever I needed someone, he was there. I never had to ask.
And to me, that was enough. I didn’t care about his past, not even his present. All I cared about was his future, and whether or not I would be included in it. I wanted him, and I thought that he wanted me.
But it was all a lie. Every second of it. He made himself into this picture-perfect guy, when in reality all he wanted to do was hurt me. And he did. He hurt me so deep that I know I will never recover. I’ll never be the way that I was before we met. He helped me destroy myself, and the worst part was, I let him. Because I had created this false sense of love and after everyone else gave up on me, it was all that I had to hold onto.
Now I’m alone. He’s gone. Everyone is gone. Part of me says that I should start over. The other says that I should just give up. I’ll never love again. I’ll never trust again. So what is the point of living when all of that is gone?
I used to wonder if life was all just a dream and that I would wake up one day and realize that I hadn’t even started living yet. But I realize now that life is just a big fat lie. We create these emotions in our heads and we cling onto false realities, hoping to make ourselves worthwhile. But here’s the real reality. Everyone is worthless. No one is ever worth anything. Because after you’re gone, all that is left of you is memories. And eventually those memories will fade away as well. It doesn’t matter who you were or what you did, all you are after you die is rotting flesh.
So why should I keep going? I have nothing left. No one to even temporarily remember me. But I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. I let him destroy me, but I won’t let him kill me. I’ll show him that he can hurt me, but all pain fades out. This pain will fade out. Like a coffee stain on a cotton shirt.
