You give back what you give away.

I’ve had a moment of lucidity. Again, nothing too new since the words have been trying to come out for long, but I just realized that you’re not better than me. What an epiphany, maybe attached to the fact that I don’t like you (which was an epiphany by itself.)

Last time it hurt having to look up in a way to someone I despise. So this time around it was easy to convince myself you were perfect. The feeling of neglect just hurt less. Or worthy, to say the least. I’m not taking that away from you. Being fair, even if it’s not my place to give away sentences, I’d say that you are worthy. But not more than I am. Out of your many amazing traits, there’s not one I don’t possess in some level. I can be everything I want to be, and I’m pretty much on my way. The way I see it, there’s nothing so wrong with me that can’t be repaired. There’s always room to improve, and the fact that I’m not stationary in that sense whispers words that might be hard to perceive. They make me proud nonetheless.


So, well, it’s not that. As in, it’s not me. And deep down, you -a different you- know that even better than I do. I’m sorry I’m not fucked up enough for you to find me interesting. I’m sorry I’m not enough of what you condemn, so you don’t have a reason to think about me more than necessary. I’m sorry I’m not smart/pretty/funny/unique enough for you to find me intimidatingly admirable. I’m sorry I’m just an average person with okay brain capacity and okay looks and the same aspirations everyone else has. I can do lots of stuff, but I can’t do them well. I laugh a little too scandalously and I cry a little too easily. I feel weird and silly, and so does everyone else. I have a generally low self-esteem, but I’m normal. Which means, never enough to shine in any way. Never enough for my expectations, and definitely never enough for yours.

So I just wish no one said a word when I say that I’m not enough. I know what I’m talking about. But… Eh, I worded my thoughts rather poorly. I said that I’m sorry when I’m most definitely not. I might hate myself sometimes, and it might be draining, but I’d rather stay the way I am. I’m not changing to meet your self-offending expectations.