I Keep Making Mistakes.

Mistakes I don't want to take back. Really, I understand why I never wanted a relationship before or anything close to one. Actually... no, I don't. Before this, everything was easy. People were simple. They wanted to date me, they asked me out, I gave my response. I wanted to date someone, I dropped hints like a motherfucker and we'd see what would happen. Ha. Simple enough. I kind of wish I'd taken a relationship more seriously in the past. I've had guys say they love me so much... It's nothing to me. "Good morning, I love you." "What's your favorite color, I love you." I never said it back and one of them actually got angry with me for it but I didn't get it. I'd rather not hurt him later on by lying now and saying, 'I love you,' when I didn't. Don't. Never could. But I never took the men seriously, after all, they'd proclaim their love in the span of three months. You need longer than that. I thought so.

It made me feel weird, though. It made me feel a little... broken, in a way. I never loved them, ever. I never thought for a split second I could - it just never crossed my mind. I thought of them all, as with many other people in my life, as temporary. Just ornaments and decorations in the hall of life that I'd pass by. Ha. Corny as fuck, but true. I never thought I could love anyone. I've never been a nice person. Even as a kid, people would tell me how mean I was. My mom says it still, asks me, 'why are you so mean?' And honestly, I can't help but laugh. She prefers my sisters personality to mine, of course, most people do. She's normal, or, at the very least, she comes off as normal. She can fit into a situation while me, nah, no matter how much I try, no matter how much I blend, they'll pick me out and just know that something is wrong with me. It bothers me. I don't mind having things wrong with me - that's just me, but I don't like being picked out for it. I can make jokes, I can laugh, and I can smile, but, there's always that twitch.

My sister is nice but she's not kind. She'll laugh with you and make jokes, but I won't. I won't smile if your joke isn't funny and I won't go out of my way to make conversation. But I'll help you. I like to help people. I don't like to admit it, and, for the most part, people are such assholes, they don't deserve my help, but... I like to. My sister, she'll send you a card and a bouquet of flowers when you burn your body, show up at the hospital with her deepest sympathies and best sayings, but she won't help you. She'll tell you that you look 'just fine', with those burn scars but you won't believe her because she's just trying to be nice. You know that. I don't have anything. I'm not a frills person so you won't get a card unless I made it myself and I'm not so childishly in love with you. I won't tell you that you look just the same because you don't and those long looks people give you won't support that. I can only tell the truth and the truth isn't as ugly as people make it out to be.

But I'm not nice. Looking back at the way I treated past 'lovers,' I've been downright cruel. Not kind at all. I've ignored them. Sometimes I ignored them simply because I wasn't in the mood to talk to them. Other times, I just didn't care enough to talk to them. I've broken up with others in a heartless manner. Text messages, IMs.. What makes it worse is that they were calculated by how much I felt for them - the less I cared, the more impersonal it became. I'd intentionally make typos or half-spell words to convey it. I'm not nice. My sister would never do that. I wish I were nice. But I'm not and I'm okay with that, I'd suppose. Nice people are nice to everyone but kindness is exclusive for a lot of people. I envy those who can be kind to everyone they meet. That's a bit beautiful, yeah?

So, love. I love someone. He's kind, too, but he's kind to everyone. It sort of dulls how kind he can be with me since I know he just gives it to anyone. He thinks I'm the same.. That I'm kind to everyone so he doesn't really understand that when I take the time out of my day just to make sure he doesn't feel neglected by me, I'm doing something out of my character. Not everyone deserves to be treated with the utmost care and delicacy and I really couldn't take doing that 24/7 for everyone. We're polar opposites and that's interesting - we are... the other person, flipped inside out, is better put. I understand him well but he doesn't really understand me. He tries and sometimes he gets things right but... I suppose that's just how the cookie crumbles. I love him. He's my first love, last love. I'm not saying that because I don't believe there are other people in this world I can love - there are over a billion people, you know? Life's not so cut and dry. I'm saying that because I don't want to do this all over again. I don't want to lose this and feel like I used to. I don't need anyone to love me; I need someone to love. It makes me feel happy.

I've gotten selfish, though. I was never going to tell him I loved him, wasn't even going to tell him I was beginning to have any sort of romantic feelings for him because I didn't need to - as long as he'd have me around I'd be alright. But.. it came out. He guessed. And when he did confront me about it, I lied. He asked me why I was trying so hard. Why I cared so much. Asked me if I loved him. I said no. I said I just really liked him as a friend. He didn't believe me - not for a second, so he asked again, and I lied again, so he asked again, and I gave in. Later on, time is a blur to me, he told me he loved me. I didn't believe him but I didn't let on. It didn't matter. I wasn't supposed to care. But he kept saying it. And he was so tender. I couldn't help wanting it after he'd given me just a little bit.. gave me an inch, and fuck, I wanted miles and miles. I used to just want him to be happy. I even gave him advice on reconciling with his ex. Now, I want him to be happy with me. I hate it. I don't want to want it. I just want to pretend like he's not nice to me. But does it really matter?

I'm a boy and we're far away right now. There are girls near him that want him and that's about 500 miles ahead of me with just being female. And he likes them and I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I hate feeling like a second choice... Actually, what I wouldn't give to be a second choice. I'm not. If this were a play, I'd be the understudy's understudy and even then, when the understudy wasn't available, the director would rather pick someone out of the crowd to play the part and if there were no volunteers, then maybe I'd be considered but he'd much sooner run out and find someone else to play the part. Doesn't matter if they were worse at it than I was.. just as long as it wasn't me. I'm not even just playing the pity card because holy shit, to be real with you, I think I am fucking fantastic for him. Otherwise, I wouldn't even bother. But.. I suppose he doesn't see it that way.

He doesn't tell me he loves me as often as he used to. Not that I mind since I never believed him to begin with. He does tell me when we're being serious, though. I just... I know what I should do. I should stop. I don't like being used like this, especially in conjunction with other people. Because, honestly, i can't believe that I'm the only one he treats like this. I can't. It frustrates me because I don't want to believe he's giving everyone the same shit but.. why not? He likes attention. He likes to feel wanted. Last night, I was going to tell him everything.. that I didn't want to do anything anymore. I didn't want to do... what we do. But, I didn't even begin the sentence. I was just happy to talk to him.

Once, not too long ago within the week, he asked me if I was bothered by the fact girls liked him. I told him I wasn't and that's me being honest. I don't care how other people feel about him. But I care how he feels about other people. That's the thing. That's the thing that kills me. This entire shit kills me. I wish I'd kept lying.