J is for Joke

    I am relapsing to the memory of you. The last time we were together, you barely left me breathing. You come in the form of unkept promises and hollow sentimental whispers. I don't need commitment, I just need you to make me feel again. Those nights when we would get lost in each other's eyes. Or the night when you fulfilled the perfect date. I didn't know men knew how to listen, but you did. You listened and paid attention, it was I who didn't listen. I didn't listen because if I did, I would allow myself to love you. It's easier to play pretend than to actually allow myself to fall. 

I fell once.

Funny I don't resent him. I should. I can't. My friends and mom resent you, or the idea of you. I have dealt with too many versions of you. 

    I look back to the memories of you, and I hate how easily I would bow to you. I would submit without even knowing. You were toxic, every single version of the word. I never accepted it, because I didn't realize how addicting it was. You painted yourself as an innocent, a friend, a lover. Yet, in the end, you were equivalent to the men my mom told me to fear and run from. The sick part is, I wonder about you. I wish I could hate you and resent you. It would be so much easier. For some reason you still have that pull on me. You played the game, I didn't realize you were a player, hell you were the master. I thought I was the one playing the game, but then I looked back and I realized you created what I needed. 

I was the wild card, you knew my backstory with one look. You had me hooked, especially the first night. You played the game, and I was just there for your amusement.

    Funny though... I was the one to make you happy. I gave you your love. I gave you your ideal girl. Truth is, I am better than you. I always will be. You live in a world that follows rules. Poor you, I pity you. You will always live in his shadow, it's cute how you try. But darling you won't ever be him. You will always be second.