Generosity Is My Addiction.
it almost serves as a validation for me that i am a decent person. i give and give of myself until i feel empty, until there’s nothing left. you could ask for the very marrow at the core of my bones, and i’d give it to you; knowing it would be excruciatingly painful. and for what?
giving, in my brain, equates to love. giving of time, undivided attention, energy... sacrificing your wants and needs to make sure the person you love is taken care of. you were never capable of this; your selfishness choked out every good thing in you. i didn’t realize this until it was too late; i had given you my heart and when i understood that you could never give me what i deserved, i didn’t even ask for it back.
i thought giving you everything would cure you. i blindly believed that i could be enough for you to change, or at least to try; if not for my sake, for yours.
you are far too comfortable in your misery that you don’t even try to hide it anymore, but i couldn’t keep living in that lie. perhaps we both don’t know how to be happy, but at the very least i can say i tried to prevail over the nagging thought that i didn’t deserve happiness.
i wish i had been enough for you. i wish you believed i was worth your time. i wish you could have loved me the way you claimed to. i see now that what you felt for me wasn’t love. i merely served as a validation that someone could meld their heart with yours; even if it was unrequited. i was the proof you needed to rid your fear of being unlovable.
you recklessly tainted and scarred my heart. you took everything from me without remorse.