Being second best can only be described as having your heart trampled on time and time and time again. Having some ones hand on your heart making it pump when they’re with you but then they’re squeezing it so tight you can’t breath when the leave.
Love isn’t supposed to hurt and yet the only love my heart knows it gut wrenching, painful, to die for love. Love that can and will destroy you. Love that makes but breaks you.
Love that knows nothing but maybes, second bests and what ifs.
A love that leaves me hanging on, questioning, wondering, breaking. Is it really worth it? Will I ever be worth more?
Life on the Borderline... 