A Letter To The Person Who Didn’t Give Me The Love That I Deserve

I guess no answer is answer enough. I’m not important enough to warrant a simple, quick text saying you’re not up for hanging out? I’m not important enough to stick around and wonder where this is going, because the answer is clearly a resounding “nowhere.” It echoes off the walls built by the silence you have placed between us so many weeks ago now. I’m done waiting for a response, convincing myself that somewhere—even in the far back of your mind—is a thought of me that will ring through as if someone tapped a fingernail on a crystal glass. A clear sound to ripple to the front of your consciousness and remind you I’m standing by… but I’ll stand by no more.

I deserve to be happy… but so do you. Waiting around for something to never happen only promotes the stagnation of life, progression—it halts the future and what it has in store. What so many others our age forget to remember is this: love isn’t simply choosing to spend your life with someone. It is waking up every day and making the daily choice to spend the rest of your life with them. Love isn’t passive, it’s an action—a daily choice. It’s perpetual.

But the most important kind of love is the kind we most often neglect: self love. I gave that up in my desperate search for love from you, and I lost sight of who I am and what makes me happy. So instead of sitting around waiting for a text from you that will probably never come, I’m choosing myself every day. To wake up and remind myself that I am strong, and worthy of being loved the way I wanted to love you. Someday, I will get that kind of love from another person, someone capable of allowing me to love them.