Being in Love With Two People at Once

I always had to be a secret.
Nobody could know.

It would get rid of the cool guy title and make people, including yourself, uncomfortable.
Because instead of the truth and instead of how you really felt you were worried about your cool guy title and not my feelings or how hard I was trying to get you to love me.

You can’t just use people and throw them away when you’re done. That’s not how it works.

You can’t call me beautiful or call me your princess or tell me that I don’t need to worry about anybody else and that you won’t leave me because if I’m not good enough for you, you are setting me up to hurt and intentionally inflicted pain and suffering should be a fucking felony because you made me want to die.

This is about two people. I was in love with two people, who just needed something to do- or better yet, someone to do.

One of you is wandering around the world. Literally. Making friends and meeting people and not thinking about me. Unless you’re drunk and horny again because then, then you will scroll straight to my name and hesitate to press send and realize I’ve moved on from you and you know even if you tried you would regret it in the morning. Because you never liked me, you just liked the idea of a "babe" girl in your bed who actually paid attention to you and sang along with you. You liked us cuddling and playing with your cat but when I opened my mouth and things spilled out that is when you didn’t like me or the idea of ever being us.

But that hurts the worst because you like the outside just not the inside and if I remember correctly it’s the insides that count.

You are hopping planes and setting up tables and forgetting about home and in turn, forgetting about me.

The other one of you is probably drunk.

Taking shots of fireball with your roommates to ease the pain of whatever troubles you dealt with today.
I knew something was wrong by the lack of communication and, well, cum.

I know I’m hard to deal with but I was trying so hard to make you love me.

I thought my heart melted when I met you, you can’t blame me for being so bitter.

You can’t blame me for hating Brand New because you know Jesse reminds me of you because of that stupid fucking tattoo.

You ripped apart whatever was left of me, which I'm sure wasn't much. But none the less, you know I would have cracked ribs for you even though you left me for someone else




I pray to a false god every day that this doesn’t happen to me again