You Were So Perfect You Almost Killed Me

You were so perfect.

In fact, you were so perfect it hurt. You were so perfect you were killing me. You made me think about you—all the damn time. Because, you were so perfect.

I never thought it would happen to me, but you made me lay awake at night, unable to sleep, because you. didn’t. love. me. back. You didn’t think of me. You didn’t miss me when we didn’t stay in contact for 3 days and 1 week. You didn’t want me the way I wanted you.

Why?

Wasn’t I good enough?

Was I not perfect too?

My heart is aching, because I look in the mirror and I can see what you see. I see my almond shaped eyes. I see my wide cheek bones. I see my baby fat. I see the extra layer of fat all aorund my middle. I see my stocky thighs. I see my eyelashes that don’t curl. I see my flat chest. I see my nose that curves up at the tip.

I see it all and I don’t cry because I’m not sad. No, I’m mad. I’m mad at so much. You, for being so perfect. You for taking up so much of my mind and controlling my emotions. My heart is aching so much and beating so hard I wonder how long it will be able to keep up this pace.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair at all. How can you be taking so much from me, without my permission, without even doing anything ‘wrong’, yet doing everything so wrong?

My heart still aches and beats and beats and beats. Be still, my heart. My heart is mine. Not yours. You do not control it. You do not own it. I have not given it to you.

I am perfect. I am so perfect. I am perfectly perfect. I am beautiful.

You were perfect. You were so perfect, I let myself be blinded. I let myself be blinded to your faults. The single emoji response 27 minutes and 8 hours after I sent my text. The attention you give to your phone even when you are alone with me. The mind of yours that can’t make up its mind on me. The one that will check in on me, but without any commitment. The hours you spent talking to me, but didn’t follow up on. The phone that didn’t buzz after you confused me with 8 hours of conversation. The time you let me stay over at your place until 4 A.M., alone, together, laying close, then sending me home. Hitting me up only when you want a party to go to. The way you let it all happen on your terms. The way you shrug off all my invites.

I ignored all that. I was blinded by the other moments. The perfect moments. When you made me laugh by bringing up my acomplishments over and over again. The way you would squint your eyes in exaggerated confusion, just to make me snicker. Playing utterly pointless games just to pass the time. The way you always get the door for me. The way you insisted on getting my drink for me. Taking an interest in my passions that you had never dabbled in. The way you linger. The way you looked out for me. Walking out to meet me even though I was already headed in your direction. The way you looked at me as you played the ukelele for me. The way you remembered little things I said 2 days and three weeks back.

Did you mean to lead me on? Was it your intention to send me mixed signals? Or was I reading into everthing, too much, just because I wanted to? Were you playing me, using me, or was I playing myself? Was I making a fool of myself? Over you?

You weren’t perfect, but you were. You made me feel so good, and so bad. My heart beat in protest, telling me to let you go, and I did, but you always came back, wrecking my heart all over again, killing the life in me, the purpose in me, killing my productivity. You were killing me with your perfection, and I fucking loved every moment. I let you, but I can’t anymore, because I have to live my life.

I am my own person. This is my life, my heart. Not yours.

So this is to you, the boy with the hair you would push back so sexily. The boy with the eyes that would stare deep in to mine when we talked. The boy with the high nose you were so proud of and with the pale skin. The boy with so many passions and accomplishments it made me feel inferior. The boy who was such a show off, but had the right to be. The boy who was 5 foot 9 and wanted that extra inch. The boy with the tattoos on his back, the boy who loved and took protecting his family very seriously. The boy who I could talk to for hours that were only a few minutes. The boy with that lean, athletic body I fantasized about way too much. And who obessed over that very body of his own way too much.

You were so perfect even though you weren’t, and as much as it hurts me, I have to let you go. Before you take over my life, before I die inside.

I’ll miss you. Even though you never actually gave me anyhting, I’ll miss you. But I’ll be better off without you.

I will be able to breath once I let you go. I’ll be able to be perfect again once I silence your voice from my head. I will be able to love myself again when I stop loving you so hard there’s nothing left to go around for me.

I will let you go, even though I never even had you, and will free myself from your claws.

How much did I even actually want you? How much of it was actually just an infatuation? I don’t know. But now that you’re gone, I can finally breathe again. I’m finally me again. I can be me. I’m alive again.

I look in the mirror and my eyes are alive. They sparkle. My eyebrows are looking naturally fly. My lips are plump and soft, I mean, who wouldn’t want to kiss them? My cheek bones are sharp and sexy. My lashes are dark and thick. And my HAIR. Don’t even get me started on that luxuriously 70% cacao chocloate brown mane, shimmering in the light. My curves look good in this sexy red Calvin Klein t-shirt you remember.

Girls don’t need boys. Girls don’t even need men. All we need is our own beauty, and the boys will come panting.

Girls don’t need boys, and I don’t need you. I don’t even want you anymore. You were too imperfectly perfect. I will never forget you, but you never were mine, and I never was yours.

I’m just mine. My life, my heart, the air I breath is all mine, and don’t anyone ever try to take it from me again. I almost died because of you. How would that have made you feel, the unwitting murderer of a beautiful girl who was ready to give you the world, her world? You wouldn’t have seen it for the treasure it would have been.

You are still here, but you are gone, and I am free.