...

Fall in love with insensitive. Love the thoughtless. The immature. The unreliable. I thought I undervalued sex but he showed me what that really means: It's not about who you fall in love with. It's about who admires you the most. Who hates themselves enough to believe a halfheart is all they ever wanted. Being constantly admired must do something for him; he finds it at record speed. Maybe it makes him forget that there's lots more to learn. Maybe it makes him forget that he never thought he was good enough.

I hurt and hurt and hurt and every time I turn around there's another reason why he's gone. It's controlling. It's deceitful. It's lies, lies, lies, everywhere. Nobody understood why. Every kiss, every smile, every phone call might be my last. I stop and pray every time he leaves that he'll come back again. I smile when he provides attention, but words can't win over disrespectful actions anymore. I'm so worn out. I'm too tired to hate. It's become a habit, an addiction I can't break from. A poison that kills me silently every day.