Sometimes I feel like I’m just a replacement for her. You don’t want people to know we’re dating, and the only question I ask is why? I think it’s because you still care what she thinks, what she’s going to say and because you still want to be with her. Sometimes I wonder if it’s really me you want to be with, or if I was just a replacement to prevent the emptiness from consuming you. You said you’ve wanted to be with me for over 17 months. You never asked because you were afraid I was going to reject you. You didn’t even take a chance. And then you just vanished.
Over sixteen months later, I get a text from you. You want to come back into my life. And because I missed you, I caved in. You tell me you never stopped caring about me, and that you thought about me over the sixteen months you were with her. Now, you have me. You look at me with that smile, brush the hair out of my face, and tell me I’m beautiful. Sometimes I want to know what you’re thinking when those brown eyes meet my blue ones. But, as always, you refuse to tell me. So I stopped asking. I thought I made you happy. Or at least that’s what you always tell me. Sometimes, I find it hard to believe. I’m so used to false words, that why would this be any different. I know you were together for awhile, but I’m tired of constantly feeling like your past is going dictate our future. It’s starting to weigh heavily on my mind, and my happiness.
You’re worried that when he comes home in 19 days, it’s going to change how I feel about you. I already gave you my answer. It isn’t. If I wanted to be with him, I wouldn’t be with you. Now would I? Yes, for a long time he still held my heart. Yes, I want to see him. But only for closure, so I can finally come to peace. So I can finally heal. And be free to give my heart to you. When I go to bed at night, it’s you I wish I was laying next to. When I wake up, it’s your face I want to see. During the day, it’s you I think about. Not him. So doesn’t that give you your answer? I choose you. I told you this. I thought it would make you happy. I mean, isn’t it supposed to?
I’m not her. And I never will be. I once told you I would never hurt you. I just told you I would do anything for you. I am nothing like her, and I pride myself on that. You tell me that’s what you like about me. So, then, why do I feel like you want me to be like her?
If you’re so happy, and “over her,” then why do I constantly feel like I’m second to her? You say you’ve finally got what you wanted. Me. So, then, why do I feel like you’re ashamed to be with me? Why do I feel like I’m not enough?
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