You didn’t love me. I am not even sure if you even liked me, the real me I mean. You loved some version of me that you modeled in your head. The expectation of what I should be like, that you created in your head, that I needed to live up to.
It’s probably because you were in love with me before you had the chance to get to know me. So you made some unreal picture of me. The picture made in your imagination that had nothing to do with who I was, which made so many problems for us.
I would never say the right thing. Or should I say, I would never say the thing you would expect. I would never react the way you thought I would. I would be me, I would behave like I usually would in those situations. I wasn’t aware of your expectations at first, and even if I had been, I would still have been me because I knew no other way.
You weren’t satisfied with my life choices or with the way I used my time. My studies for example, they were going too slowly. It didn’t impress you that I balanced my work with my studies. I was doing really well and I was proud of me. It’s not easy to study and to have a job on the side. But your constant nagging, how I should do better, how I should want more, more from life, more from myself, they only made me feel bad, incompetent and unaccomplished, they didn’t motivate me at all if that was your intention.
You didn’t even like the way I looked. You would say I was beautiful. You would say I was sweet and that you liked me. But I remember you showing me one of my Facebook profile pictures and saying, “That’s you, the one I fell in love with. Why can’t you be more like that?” I remember thinking, ‘WTF just happened here. That photo of me should be the real me?? Are you are crazy??’
On the photo, I had an innocent, smiling, childish face, and I was all dressed up. Long, black hair falling down my shoulders. You didn’t like me changing my hair color to blond. You didn’t like my Winnie the Pooh or panda T-shirts. You didn’t like shirts that revealed my breasts even a little. Or short skirts that showed my legs. You didn’t want other men looking at me. You didn’t like the way I was changing my looks.
You fell in love with a picture of me. And that picture is just a paused moment in time. The frozen me in that moment. The expression I made and the feeling I was having at that time. It’s not really me. It’s not the living and breathing me. It’s not me that has ups and downs, who smiles and cries, who freaks out and calms down.
We had so many fights because of it. And I couldn’t see clearly what was happening because I was too in love, I was too close. I thought you were the one for me. You always knew what you wanted. I was too indecisive, I was insecure, but I hadn’t finished building myself yet.
I wanted to trust you. I wanted to believe that you were telling me all these things for my own good. I thought maybe you knew better. Maybe you could see me better than I saw myself. Maybe I should have improved.
Naturally, we can all improve at some point. We can all do better, there is always better. But you were way off. I should have never let you treat me that way. I was just too in love to do anything about it.
I was so heartbroken when you left me. It took me a long time to recover. It took me even longer to realize that it was the best thing that you could have done. I found myself when you left. I made myself feel like I was enough. I am more than enough. I am perfect in my imperfections and I will never let anybody else treat me like I am not.
I did love you, but I wanted you to love me too. I wanted you to love me for me. The real me, not some flawless and perfect version you created of me. That was never me. That was a version of me created by your imagination.
And no matter how many times you said you loved me, you never did, not like you should have, with all your heart, purely, truly, madly, deeply – just the way I am inside and out. Love doesn’t change, love accepts you for who you are, I know that now.