Estoy jodidamente harto de tu falso amor

¿Por qué es tan difícil hoy en día tener relaciones normales? Nada fuera de lo común, sólo una relación con compromiso y lealtad. Sin fotos de pollas no deseadas, ghosting y múltiples perfiles de aplicaciones de citas activas.

God knows I’m not asking for much. I gave up on dreaming about that movie kind of love that feels like Christmas morning. I gave up on that love story where you two meet and the whole world finally makes sense.

At this point, I’m just looking for someone who will love me like I love him. Someone who will care about me as much as I care about him.

I’m done with these a medias relaciones.

Nada en tu vida debe hacerse a medias, especialmente tu relación. No se nos ha puesto en este mundo para que nos amen de vez en cuando, porque merecemos que nos amen en todo momento y más allá.

We deserve to be loved at our worst, not only at best. Same like we’re ready to love someone else, he should be ready to love us as well.

I’m done con estos fuckboys, cheatboys y shitboys.

It’s all the same, really. Someone who is not ready to commit to just one person is nothing more than a boy. And as long as it’s all fun and games, one-night stands and whatnot, it’s fine.

But being played by a fuckboy, where he knew from the first moment he will never commit, but still had indecency to make you believe he will, that’s straight hell. Playing with someone else’s emotions and heart is a shit move to do.

I’m done with these emotionally unavailable men.

It’s like loving a wall. You are doing all you can, giving your everything and putting a shit ton of effort, but for nothing. There’s no reaction; there are no emotions. Nothing.

It feels like you’re screaming at him, pouring out your heart and all you can hear is an echo of your own words. The pain in your own voice is surrounding you, draining you, destroying you. And yet, there’s not a single reaction from him. Not one.

And I’m so fucking done with you.

Con tu falso amor.

Con su promesas vacías y palabras vacías.

I deserve more than to hope that you will come around, more than to hope that someday you will see how lucky you are. Because damn it, I’m worth it.

All of it. I deserve more than just people who take away parts of me. I deserve more than to look at someone’s back when they’re leaving me.

I deserve love. I deserve devotion. I deserve explanation when things go south. I’m so done with coming up with answers on my own, so done doubting myself and my worth because someone is unable to love me. So tired of thinking it’s always my fault people leave.

I’m so done with whatever this was between us because it sure as hell wasn’t love.

Tal vez pensaste que era tal vez pensaste que cuenta si tú lo dices. Tal vez pensaste que la palmadita ocasional en la espalda era suficiente para consolarme.

Quizá pensabas que los mensajes ocasionales sobre lo estupendo que es mi cuerpo bastaban para hacerme sentir deseada.

But that’s not love.

No significa nada que me envíes un mensaje de texto si en ese momento estás con otra persona. No significa nada si intentas consolarme porque eres tú quien ha causado mi dolor.

Tú eres el causante de mi dolor. No significa nada si dices que me amas porque nunca me lo demostraste.

Sólo significa que todo lo que tienes son palabras.

Las acciones no son lo tuyo.

And I deserve a real deal. I deserve someone who will respect me and my feelings. I deserve someone who will be there next to me. I don’t need him to kiss the ground I walk on. I don’t need him to fight my battles or carry me around like a drop of water on a palm.

I just need him to be there. To kiss me and tell me that I got it. To hug me and make me feel loved. I don’t need empty promises and words. I just need to feel it.

I don’t need to be spoiled, I just need to be respected. And I don’t need another fuckboy en mi vida. Necesito un hombre. Un hombre de verdad.

But until then, I’m going to love myself the best way I can. At least I’ll know it’s real.