I am afraid that people only ever like the
idea of me.
and once they get to know it, they start to imagine who to better see.
Then start seeing other people — they go off to explore.
they meet me but aren’t satisfied.
…
And then leave in the pursuit of something more…
It’s always happened.
Like watching night turn to day —
It has gotten almost too predictable.
I can even quote what they are going to say.
Something about how nice I am,
the classic:
“you deserve better it’s true”
Something about:
“How lucky anyone would be to have somebody like you”
…
and yet I get this sudden feeling
A horrible gut reaction, deja vu—
“I think we would be better off as friends”
That one’s a classic tried and true —
And for a second I hate myself
I dissect everything I could have ever done wrong and for a minute I replay their words like my new least favorite song…
then I start to think about it…
I write poetry for fun
I cry at sappy books and cheers at the sun.
anyone would be lucky …
I love in UPPER CASE in bold.
I’m the type to offer a blanket if I see that you are cold.
For a second I hate myself
But I love the way that I cook,
I found the recipes that you liked — I was gonna group them in a book I delete the list from my phone.
All the favorite things, your favorite candy, the silly videos, I try to forget and rip out the thought of how you looked at me in the car and told me my eyes reminded you of the forest when it rains.
I don’t think I was made for flings —
I’m afraid that people only like the idea of me
instead of trying to love the person I’ve worked so hard to … be.
-
Author:
Her (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 30th, 2025 15:42
- Category: Letter
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments4
Don't worry, welcome to reality. You may well be safer knowing this painful fact thus delineated so beautifully above, than fooling yourself decades longer, learning that he was more interested in making you like himself than who you thought you were, 30+ years into marriage, like my best friend seemingly expressed years ago so eloquently. And yet, if you're willing to lose yourself to who he is, you'll perhaps enjoy the blessing not all do. But that aside, how charmingly rendered with excellent imagery and a rather exquisitely haunting poignancy. Thank you for sharing.
Excellent work.
People love the illusion of what they want in another seldom what a person really is. You have to love who you are before anyone else can. A heart felt write
You have to value, appreciate and love yourself and be happy who you are before anyone can love you, then they will see the real you, nicely expressed write
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