Things work funny. I convince myself that I no longer have any feelings for a boy who treats me simply as an option, a last option, rather, but as soon as one fateful night he finds himself bored and so messages me over the Snapchat app- I have once again fallen into a pit that he seems so well at digging for me. After said night I find myself missing his conversations all until I convince myself to let it go- it was just one night, I just was a muse.
When the truth hits you, it hits you hard as a gust of wind on a stormy day by the ocean. The truth in this case would be that I've set myself up to fall from the very beginning. I was always just the quiet friend that he could turn to, learning to never think of him as a reliable person to be able to turn to myself. I had tried not only once, but twice, and it wasn't long at all before he let me fall. I became the quiet friend, not needed but always there.
It's exactly how he sees me: not needed, but always there.
So whenever he finds himself in need of a temporary muse, someone who doesn't need to be taken seriously, I'm always there. I simply sit and wait inside the pit until he decides to make another appearance.
Of course there will come a day where I learn to climb out of the pit and stand on my feet, towering over the boy who always seemed to be able to build me up and then wreck me down. It will be that day that I won't allow him to be strong enough to wreck me again, and I imagine that will be the day I confess my dead love for him. Perhaps maybe he would like to say something, but at that point it would be of no use, not anymore. My love had died.
At least a girl can hope.
