I waited for you to love me. I was falling for you and I waited anxiously for you to catch up with me. Just when I thought you might actually be ahead of me in the race to learn to love again, I realized how badly I interpreted your mixed signals. Your kindness wasn’t born from a place of love for me, and as much as you tried to take care of me in the little ways, you didn’t truly want me to lean on you.
Then I waited for you to say you were sorry. But it took me over a year before I could even tell you how hurt I had been. I don’t think I ever believed you were sorry until I was brave enough to tell you the truth and heard you say the words.
I had faith for the first time in a long time, and I let that faith open my heart. I finally trusted you enough to truly be honest. I tried my best to be considerate and to communicate clearly. This was important and I wanted to give you every chance to get it right. I wanted to build a friendship that would be stronger than the false love we had shared at first.
I believed you would get it right, if I would just get out of your way and stop doubting you.
But that faith was just a false hope. I know you’d give me the moon and stars if you could – but you’re not Prometheus bearing the light for all mankind and it was probably unfair of me to ever hope for you to give me anything in return for everything I gave you. You warned me from the start, but I chose to ignore the signs. I chose to believe the best in you when you couldn’t see the best in yourself. But just because we believe in something, doesn’t make it true.
So I’m stuck here again, waiting for you.