I want to blame him, I really do, but I can’t because we all take chances with our hearts. Sometimes, it works out and we don’t have to deal with the shock and aftermath of losing someone but other times, it doesn’t. Even when we give our all to someone, there’s no guarantee it won’t fall short.
And that’s what I wish I would had known when he walked into my life.
I wish I hadn’t trusted him so thoroughly and let my guard down so completely, but most importantly, I wish I was a little more careful with my heart. Because maybe then I wouldn’t be in this mess. And I wouldn’t have had to learn the hard way that not everyone gets an explanation– not everyone gives you the closure you deserve. Sometimes… it’s just over.
But I’ve loved and I’ve learned. And he made me learn the hard way that you can’t always take someone for their word.
He was always telling me what I wanted to hear but he was never really saying anything. Not really. He would tell me I was beautiful, but then make me try a little too hard. He would tell me that he cared, but then he would keep me waiting.
I was always just on the back burner.
And it hurts the most because he knew what he was doing all along and it just took me a little too long to figure it out. He was never going to say those three words I craved from him, it was never even his intention to even stick around for that long.
All I ever tried to do was care about him. I wanted to be there for him but he was only interested when it was convenient for him.
But I’ve come to realize that behind every fuck boy is a girl he once cared for. Some girl along the road must have hurt him… bad. She must have done to him exactly what he did to me, leaving him hurting like hell. He was up late too, unable to fall asleep because the memories were playing in the back of his head over and over again like a broken record. She was the only girl he’ll never truly and completely get over. The one girl he compares every other woman who enters his life to.
He thought he had it all with her, it was the happiest he’s ever been. He felt that with her, he was the best version of himself. And then she left him without warning. He gave her his big heart and all she did was toss it behind her back and tell him that she didn’t want him anymore.
That’s why he gave up before there was ever even a chance to start. In fact, he’s had a lot of practice at walking away.
So maybe he just wasn’t enough for me. Maybe I was too much for him. Whatever the reason, being good at goodbye doesn’t make him more of a man.
I put time and effort into making whatever we had work and he didn’t even care. He was more wrapped up in himself than he ever would have been in me. But I don’t blame him for what he did and I never will. Because when you don’t allow yourself to completely heal from a broken heart like that, you lose your ability to truly let people in. You stop being true to what you really want and do everything you can do to protect your heart at all costs. He was so terrified of history repeating itself that he had to break my heart in the order to save his own. That’s why, at the end of the day, he’s the broken one. He’s the one who missed out, not me.