Option #….

You’ve always treated me as an option.

Someone you can walk away from whenever it no longer suited your needs, wants, desires.

I am not an option. I’m a priority.

I’ve begged you to stay more times than I am willing to admit, so why does it feel like I am standing here alone?

Holding my own hand…

Promising a future you can’t uphold.

I promised myself I would never again bend over backwards, sideways and twist for a man who wouldn’t do that same, but here I am. Twisted into a pretzel you don’t want.

I don’t know how I got here, honestly. I was so careful. I wanted so deeply to believe the web of lies I spun in my head. They were good lies too. Lies. of happiness, empathy, caring, action and need.

I can’t blame you, I tricked myself.

I wanted to badly not to make the same mistake twice. Idiot.

But..but I want so badly to make it work. Make the lies become my reality.

I only need to determine if there are handles or if its a cloud in the sky…