If Only

Used to me.

Lots of things are new and exciting. So maybe to you, so was I. I was new and exciting or different from what you already had. But that's the thing about the things you already had, and vulgar as it is, they were once new, you just became... used to them.

So if I may, all I ask; what was it about me?

When exactly did all the little things that made me who I am, become all the little things that annoy you about who I am. When did seeing me become tiresome instead of something to look forward too.

You see I have to force myself not to believe that all this time, I was never a positive... something in your life. I have to remind myself that if you really pitied me, even that much quality time or what would be suffering, would be tolerable.

We were great, it started with one day repeatedly until we had seen each other every day in a week. During that time, I had thought that it had made us closer, that I was becoming some sort of favourite. It was naive because it gave you multiple chances in the smallest amount of time possible. The repeated opportunity.

I realize now, you got used to me.

Reached the end of the line,

Well, maybe I had. I was used to being someone you cared about and then you moved on and there he was. There she was. There they were. They whisked you away from something we shared; but only barely. I was there, half built up and still half broken. To you, we had made our course and finished, and then you pulled the rug out from under me and shattered what you gave. I can feel you slowly picking me apart and pushing me away. Something changed.

And do you really not see it?

Or are you choosing ignorance?

So let me ask you something; when did you get used to me?