Words Unsaid
I didn't mean to blow up at you like I did.
You must think I'm crazy.
That I'm childish and scattered.
I suppose you might be right.
But it's just not fair, you know?
It's not fair that I can care so much and you can care so little.
I know I might have been harsh.
Might have made a mountain out of a hill.
But it just hurts thinking you don't care. That I might mean nothing to you.
I can't figure out whether you're worth all of this or not.
In reality, you probably aren't. But me being me, I am predisposed to hand out second chance after second chance and to give you more credit than you deserve. It's in my blood; in my soul. I cling on to the hope that you'll prove me wrong. Even though it hurts me. Even though I would do anything to change it. To protect myself.
You're lucky.
Because I am incapable of protecting myself from you.
But I think you know that somehow.
On some level.
But you seem to mistake my kindness for weakness.
And you assume I will always be there to pick up and dust off from my place on your little shelf whenever you remember my use to you.
But second chances run out, my friend.
Even with someone like me who can't help herself.
Everything runs out.
Especially when you abuse it.
Now, it might feel like I'm skirting around something here.
Like there's something that I'm narrowly avoiding saying.
Well, that's clever of you.
The words left unsaid here are two small words with infinite meaning.
Two little words with far more power than they know what to do with.
I refuse to offer those words to you.
Because "sorry," I am not.
I'll admit, I feel bad for how things went down.
I know you are fragile. You're sensitive.
But I'm not sorry for doing what I did.
I'm not apologetic for addressing my feelings.
It was a last-ditch attempt to see if you had the capability of proving me wrong.
Proving to me that you care.
That I mean something to you, anything.
Time is ticking, my friend.
The longer you wait to contemplate your next move, the less and less inclined I will be to care.
I've waited longer than you know.
Longer than you'll ever know.
You've abused my second chances.
And your time is quickly running out.
You must think I'm crazy.
That I'm childish and scattered.
I suppose you might be right.
But it's just not fair, you know?
It's not fair that I can care so much and you can care so little.
I know I might have been harsh.
Might have made a mountain out of a hill.
But it just hurts thinking you don't care. That I might mean nothing to you.
I can't figure out whether you're worth all of this or not.
In reality, you probably aren't. But me being me, I am predisposed to hand out second chance after second chance and to give you more credit than you deserve. It's in my blood; in my soul. I cling on to the hope that you'll prove me wrong. Even though it hurts me. Even though I would do anything to change it. To protect myself.
You're lucky.
Because I am incapable of protecting myself from you.
But I think you know that somehow.
On some level.
But you seem to mistake my kindness for weakness.
And you assume I will always be there to pick up and dust off from my place on your little shelf whenever you remember my use to you.
But second chances run out, my friend.
Even with someone like me who can't help herself.
Everything runs out.
Especially when you abuse it.
Now, it might feel like I'm skirting around something here.
Like there's something that I'm narrowly avoiding saying.
Well, that's clever of you.
The words left unsaid here are two small words with infinite meaning.
Two little words with far more power than they know what to do with.
"I'm sorry."
I refuse to offer those words to you.
Because "sorry," I am not.
I'll admit, I feel bad for how things went down.
I know you are fragile. You're sensitive.
But I'm not sorry for doing what I did.
I'm not apologetic for addressing my feelings.
It was a last-ditch attempt to see if you had the capability of proving me wrong.
Proving to me that you care.
That I mean something to you, anything.
Time is ticking, my friend.
The longer you wait to contemplate your next move, the less and less inclined I will be to care.
I've waited longer than you know.
Longer than you'll ever know.
You've abused my second chances.
And your time is quickly running out.
Think fast.
