I can’t figure out how to love you and respect myself. You just don’t value me enough, and that’s not acceptable. But I could never help falling in love with you. I’ve tried demonizing you, and it would ease the desire for your hand temporarily. But I get comfortable, and I slip up.
I look through old photographs of you. I take in your dumb face and I fall for the memories all over again. It’s hard to accept that this version of you I remember is not who you are anymore. I miss you. But you aren’t the boy I miss anymore. You’re too cool. You never call. You’re far away from me; just out of reach, just out of view.
Every time I try to dredge you up it only cuts me, pulling apart the scars I have ignored into nearly healing. I know I should let go, but I can’t stop myself from checking back in too soon.
The worst part is getting caught up in how we used to be when we were hanging ‘round each other, and then being hit with the realization that you never wanted me. Again.