Estou farto do teu amor falso

Porque é que hoje em dia é tão difícil ter relações normais? Nada fora do comum, apenas uma relação com compromisso e fidelidade. Sem fotos de pila indesejadas, ghosting e vários perfis activos de aplicações de encontros.

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 de meia-tigela relações.

Nada na sua vida deve ser feito pela metade, especialmente o seu relacionamento. Não fomos postos neste mundo para sermos amados de vez em quando, porque merecemos ser amados em todos os momentos e para além deles.

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 com estes cabrões, batoteiros e merdosos.

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.

Com o teu amor falso.

Com o seu promessas vãs e palavras vazias.

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.

Talvez pensasses que era, talvez pensasses que só conta se disseres que é. Talvez tenhas pensado que uma palmadinha ocasional nas costas era suficiente para me confortar.

Talvez pensasses que as mensagens ocasionais sobre como o meu corpo é fantástico eram suficientes para me fazer sentir desejada.

But that’s not love.

Não significa nada quando me envias uma mensagem se estás com outra pessoa neste momento. Não significa nada se tentares consolar-me porque foste tu que causaste a minha dor.

Foste tu que causaste a minha tristeza. Não significa nada se disseres que me amas porque nunca me mostraste.

Significa apenas que tudo o que tens são palavras.

As acções não são o seu forte.

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 filho da puta na minha vida. Preciso de um homem. Um homem de verdade.

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