Do you think I enjoy this? I hate it. I hate telling you no in order to hold myself accountable for my own life and my own happiness. I much prefer the feelings I experienced in the beginning when I was ignorant. Because there were a lot of good times.

But let me be very clear – where we are right now is because of you. Your choices, your words, your actions. That force me to keep you only if I lose myself. You don’t make room for both of us to be in your space.

You mistake my kindness for permission not to do the work. And that’s bullshit. Because I’m a real one. Unlike so many others that will just tell you whatever they think you want to hear. Is that all you really want?

If that’s the case then I’m only sorry for me. That I didn’t test you more before I invested so much.

That it didn’t even occur to me that you’d go to so much trouble just to appear that way on the outside. Instead of rather redirecting all the energy inside for the real change. You could have already had what you wanted by now. So long ago. Enjoying it all this time. But that’s too much to ask?

If so, I’m sorry for me that I waited this long to start over again. That I didn’t know better. That I had to learn this way.

That the only way I’m not going to be as dead is if I choose to move on without you. Because you refuse. And insist on settling for so little. After all this time. After all that had happened. All you spent so far for… nothing?

No, that’s not good enough for me. And I won’t apologize for not assisting you in your metaphorical suicides.

You should know me better than that. Maybe even part of what you saw and liked in the first place. But now that it’s you, I’m suddenly too much? Or not enough.

You’re right; you’re entitled to exactly what you want. Maybe I just have been having a really hard time accepting your decision.

You don’t think I have a million reasons to follow suit? Every day. For so long. You don’t think I’m all too intimately familiar with struggling with the same?

I may not win. By your standards. But at least I try. At least I’m trying. I respect myself for that. Even if you never accept me or this. And I think that’s enough. Something more to work with.

But I guess you’re happy as you are, right? And I should just let you be in your great and grand satisfactions?

That’s the problem from the jump. Before I even came into your life. You don’t think there is enough. You are so focused on what everyone else has that you are blind to all that is available to you. Way more than just me. Because that’s the point of all this.

You’re not thinking with a clear mind. I know this. But how much longer would you hold my happiness hostage until you decide to be ready? I’m not willing to find out anymore.

You know where I am. You know how to reach me. You get to choose. The ball is in your court.

And in the meantime I’m going back to work on saving and nursing to life what’s left of my dignity.