How you look at me when I love you
I became less concerned with how someone looked and more concerned with how they looked at me as I came into self over time. it was my waking up to the fact that I was repeatedly getting my heart broken by even the best looking of men. I was still crying over the GQ model…
There was always room for improvement in how I treated myself. I think if I really truly loved myself as much as I thought I did at certain times; I wouldn’t have tolerated the moments where I sat as a second option to someone. Is it true that they must go out into the world and discover the rarity in something special they once had and only then is it; that they realize the girl they once had was actually ‘the one’? I am exhausted just typing that sentence. It’s an even more exhausting thing to go through…mentally and physically. I have been there, done that a few times. I want to know he loves me when I look at him. I want to be able to feel like he’s there for all the right reasons. That’s what scares me. Someone who isn’t there for the right reasons.
Playing with my emotions was a theme with so many that I had gone on dates with or even briefly talked to. Mixed messages, stringing alongs, lies, deception, etc. (I have played with people’s emotions as well before; but I am not trying to paint from that perspective right now.) I think it hurt ten times as much when they would hide me. I felt that shit. Every. Single. Time. And it hurt like a motherfucker. What I didn’t realize at the time is that (the right) man for me would be proud to show me off. A REAL MAN would want to show me off. He wouldn’t WANT to hide me at home. And he would not be the type of person who felt like he owned me.
It wasn’t fair to me when I was treated like that. It really wasn’t. It was pretty fucked up honestly. I remember how my heart hurt after each time I met someone who was just plain awful when it came to being true and honest. And there were times that they themselves were so fucked up in their personal webs of lies that they just had me caught in it. I am no claim to having patience for nonsense and cut that shit quicker than a stray thread. But it’s about who you associate yourself with. There was one who was about 35 years old at the time and had no desire to have more in life. I was about 25. The difference in mindset was so vast. And because he did not want much for himself, he couldn’t understand my wanting more for my own personal achievement.
All he could understand is everything he wanted for himself. There was no further outlook into what we could want together or even what I wanted. I’d given just about everything I could give when it came to suppressing myself. I didn’t necessarily think it was easy, but I didn’t think it would take as much of a toll on me that it did . He wanted me to hide parts of myself that I was proud of. He wanted me to change pieces of me that I thought fit perfectly.
It wasn’t until recently that I confirmed it for the 129,543rd time that I am not meant to be with that person. Not now, and not ever.
Looking back, I just remember how naive I was to it. How accepting I was of him acting like he could find better. He would say it. Although I didn’t believe it; and still don’t. The evidence is clear. I was the best many of them ever had.
But those lessons carry me through everything I deal with now. And these are the men who apologize now and want to get back together with me. And wouldn’t you love to know what I tell them? I tell them no. I want better. I want someone who just knows he needs to hold on to me while he has me because he might never get that chance again. I don’t want someone who finally realized they made a mistake in how they treated me years prior; asking for a second chance. I’m glad for your sake that you matured and apologize. But I’m good on that beloved.