Everybody leaves

Everybody leaves. Maybe I’m a bit too hard to love, and maybe it takes a little more effort to stay with me, an effort you don’t want to make, and maybe I am not worthy at all to care and be cared for, and maybe this is why no one’s here when I need them, or even when I don’t. 

Maybe I’m just a little too ugly, a little too loud, a little too much, and there are so much more important things in your life you can’t really bother with someone as broken as I am, and I don’t blame you for that.

I would never blame you for leaving, because why would you not? I blame myself for staying without really looking twice if you’d really care if I stay or leave. I blame myself for making myself think that I could ever be worthy of this, of all of this. 

I blame myself, for caring too hard, for loving too much, for putting you first when you really didn’t care to put me second. I blame myself for giving you my all and when I wanted you to give me a little, you weren’t even here.

Maybe it is me, maybe I give so much that I make you independent  of me, maybe I encourage you to use me and only come to me when you’re bored. Maybe I have taken the role of the prostitute in your life; you come for a night of pleasure and throw me away the very next morning. Maybe it is me, I am too broken beyond repair and you didn’t want to put up with that. 

I know you love me, but not because you care about me, but because I care about you and you need that. This is why you are never here in my low points or high points,you only come for yourself and never for me. And it’s okay, I understand that, it’s just me who anticipates shit that isn’t there.

Thing is, I expect you to neglect me. I expect you to do less and care less despite what you think or feel. I expect  you to forget me, to leave me, I expect the worst of you because I expect so little of me and I will never believe you can actually care.

And the funny thing is, you didn’t really prove me wrong. You haven’t really proved to me you care, and you have mastered the skill of neglect, and you have endeavored the act of me chasing you that now it has become a confidence booster to you. 

Maybe I’m too awful to love. Maybe my skin’s a bit unclear and my double chin is a bit too obvious and my voice is fucking terrible to listen to. Maybe my lisp is too annoying and my hunchback is disgusting and my clothings are a bit too chabby. 

And this is why I will leave. Because you make me feel like the cheapest doll and I don’t want to reach the point where you break my plastic body and throw me in the garbage. I will leave because you make me feel all those things, you make me feel like a beast and, forgive me, but I no longer want to feel that way.