If you wanted a second chance, I would give it to you.
It’s not that I am waiting for you or hoping that you’ll come back. If you wanted to try again, you would have already said something to me. With each passing day and each mile that separates us, I am able to accept the reality that you never loved me and that you’re never coming back. I am ok with that, or I have learned to be ok with that. Those few months I spent with you were the best I have ever had, but I learned that you wanted a relationship and I wanted love. You wanted someone to hold, I wanted someone to share my mind with. You wanted to post cute pictures, I wanted to live in the moments and experience all the ups and downs. You wanted the easy way, I wanted the the easy stuff and all the in between. It’s been three months and eleven days since you said “I don’t love you like I thought I did.” It’s been about two weeks since I’ve learned how to smile again. It’s been about a month since I’ve stopped checking my phone every moment for your name. It’s been a long three months and eleven days, but here I am surviving without you.
I am quite proud of myself actually. Last time I went through a break up it took me about a year to get my shit together (granted 99% was because I was emotionally abused and those scars do not go away). I’m still not comfortable with being around couples, but I am slowly learning not to be judgmental about them. Those who have a wonderful and strong relationship are lucky, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t be able to have that one day. I’ve come a long way and I still have a ways to go, but at least the journey to self recovery isn’t as difficult as it was last time. Granted, I still can’t listen to certain songs but in time I know all will be back to normal. I have come so far.
Yet, when I think about it, if you did come back and looked me in the eye and said “I want to try again,” I would give it to you in a heart beat.
That’s the worst part about me. I might cut someone out of my life, but I know deep down that I would give him another chance if he asked for it. There’s a possibility that I am just thirsty for love or maybe it’s that I am naive and too soft.
No, I don’t think it’s any of those. I’ve grown up with the idea that everyone deserves a second, third, fourth chance. Everyone is human and they make mistakes, so why should they be denied the chance to prove themselves? That’s the worst part about me: I give people too many chances.
While giving them chances, I also give up my chances.
It’s like credit. If I let them take the credit for what I have done, they’ll be praised and their reputation will flourish. I would be happy for them, but that leaves me in the shadows. It leaves me with no reputation and no chances for promotion.
When I give people chances, I somehow end up with nothing in the end, but I don’t mind it. I don’t mind giving people another piece of my heart, but that is the worst part about me: I don’t have any more pieces to give, but I still give.
I’ve been broken way too many times because of this, but each time I break I somehow love the next person even harder, which makes it even harder for me when they leave and they all do leave. Those who are broken love twice as hard because they know what it feels like to not be loved. It’s not fun and it quite frankly sucks, but that’s the worst part about me: I continue to love even when I don’t have the energy or mental strength to do anything.
I don’t open up to many people, but those who have seen me open up understand that I am a huge marshmallow underneath everything. I melt at the sight of puppies and I giggle at things that make school girls giggle. I would go out of my way to make sure my friends are safe, happy, content, full, and warm. I am fiercely loyal and I don’t judge you based on your preferences or past. My outside is cold and hard, but my insides are warm teddy bear hugs.
You might have ripped my heart to shreds and beat it with a stick while it was bleeding on the ground, but in all honesty I would give you and anyone else a second chance. I would give you the biggest death glare, but I would eventually crack and say “ok, one more chance.” Even if you fuck that up, I would still give you a chance.
So if I give out chances, why can’t I ever get another chance? Why does everyone else get a second chance and I’m left questioning if I was ever worth a single chance in the beginning?