Why do I still choose you?
I feel so weird about myself these days. I miss you, but I don’t… not really. I keep waiting for you, week after week, and you never come. But sometimes you do. You show up in my mind from time to time and I wonder if I pop into yours from time to time. I would like to think that what we never had was real. And in some way, it was. For me, at least. Was it real for you too?
I guess the answer doesn’t really matter, because I see now that after so much agony, anger, resentment, attachment, and love, I owe it to myself to choose me. This is my moment, and I will not allow you to keep taking it from me any longer. I am not over you, but I guess in some way I am not over many people in my life. I guess part of growing up is realizing that people sometimes stay in your life, even when they don’t. And I know my thoughts don’t make sense, but they do. Because today, I chose me. I am done choosing you. I wish you the best, but I don’t. Not really. I wish the best for myself. Fuck you, because you hurt me. Thank you, because through that pain, I grew.
Feeling is living, and I will never regret feeling life to the fullest.