You
Only.
He sits across from you. On her lap, and he holds her hands in his. It’d be romantic if it wasn’t so pathetic.
“I’ll always love you,” he slurs. “Don’t you ever leave me.”
And you look away, because you know that you’re intruding on a moment. You don’t even know why you’re here anyway.
Maybe you thought you’d talk to him for once. Maybe you thought wrong. You know he hasn’t spoken to you in… what’s it been now? Months? So why did you bother? Why did you show up? You didn’t believe he was here for you, surely?
But of course, you hoped.
That is very you. Always desperate and in hope.
She stares at you, from under his head resting against hers. She doesn’t want you to leave though, oh no. She wants you to watch. She wants to show you that she’s won him over. She wants to show you that he doesn’t care about you any more.
Maybe he never cared about you at all.
But then why the long nights talking? Why the time spent trading music and laughter?
Why didn’t you do anything about this?
Desperate and hopeful, but always so shy.
You could have had him, if you’d tried. If you hadn’t hidden and pushed him away. If you’d maybe talked to him more often. If you had been a better person.
Because she… She is so perfect. She is everything you are not. If you were more spineless, you would want to be just like her. A little her-clone. But you don’t hate yourself quite enough.
And maybe that’s what it all comes down to. Maybe you need to hate yourself just a little more. Maybe you need to stop preserving yourself. You and your dignity. Keep telling yourself that you’ve got it.
Because she has him.
“I’ll always love you,” he slurs. “Don’t you ever leave me.”
And you look away, because you know that you’re intruding on a moment. You don’t even know why you’re here anyway.
Maybe you thought you’d talk to him for once. Maybe you thought wrong. You know he hasn’t spoken to you in… what’s it been now? Months? So why did you bother? Why did you show up? You didn’t believe he was here for you, surely?
But of course, you hoped.
That is very you. Always desperate and in hope.
She stares at you, from under his head resting against hers. She doesn’t want you to leave though, oh no. She wants you to watch. She wants to show you that she’s won him over. She wants to show you that he doesn’t care about you any more.
Maybe he never cared about you at all.
But then why the long nights talking? Why the time spent trading music and laughter?
Why didn’t you do anything about this?
Desperate and hopeful, but always so shy.
You could have had him, if you’d tried. If you hadn’t hidden and pushed him away. If you’d maybe talked to him more often. If you had been a better person.
Because she… She is so perfect. She is everything you are not. If you were more spineless, you would want to be just like her. A little her-clone. But you don’t hate yourself quite enough.
And maybe that’s what it all comes down to. Maybe you need to hate yourself just a little more. Maybe you need to stop preserving yourself. You and your dignity. Keep telling yourself that you’ve got it.
Because she has him.