I suppose it’s possible you didn’t feel the rapid beating of my heart as you held it so carelessly in your hands, never fully understanding how even the slightest squeeze could transform me into a giggling school girl, or a shuddering mess of tears on the bathroom floor.
But, I think you knew. And if I’m honest with myself, I knew it too. I knew you didn’t love me. But I let myself fall for you anyway.
I say “let” but really, did I have any control over the preference of my heart? Trust me, I tried not to love you. We’d never work out.
You hate the beach, and I feel slightly uncomfortable if I don’t have sand in my hair. You’ve never listened to Talking Heads, even though that’s my all time favorite band. You never ask me how my day was. You never tried. Not for me, not for us.
This isn’t how love should be, and I know it. But fuck if my stubborn fucking heart wouldn’t fucking listen.
I told it this would happen. Could see it miles and miles away, yet I kept reaching. Drawn to you as if bewitched by some ancient curse.
Intellectually, I know you don’t love me. But my intellect and my heart don’t seem to be on speaking terms, because that heart just doesn’t get it. My heart is a fucking idiot.
But then again, so is yours.
Somehow, in the process of offering my love to you, I forgot why you should love me in the first place. More importantly, I forgot why I should love me.
So, to the man who doesn’t love me (but totally should).
Fuck you. Goodbye, best of luck, nice knowing you and all that.
I’ll be on the beach, blasting David Byrne & co. whilst telling the man caressing my strongly beating heart about my incredible day.
© 2012 – 2013, FearLess Jenn. All rights reserved.