Living a secret, living a lie.

I have this whole life that no one knows about. Four years of my life I have spent in a relationship that has been a secret. No one can know.

That means at times where I am hurting I have no one to turn to. When this relationship is breaking my heart and causing uncontrollable tears to roll down my face or literally making my heart ache inside my chest, I suffer alone. I have no one to turn to. No one to talk to.

I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I wants to cry. I want to talk. I just want to get out how I feel but I know I can’t. Because once I start, I won’t stop and this secret is one that is best left unsaid and because of that, I am the only one who feels pain. The only one who gets hurt. The only one who suffers. Me. No one else. And what the hell did I do to deserve that? I fell in love with someone who could never love me back. Not in the way that I deserve any way.

I keep having little rehearsals of things I want to say. Things I need to say. But As the words physically leave my mouth I get choked. I cry. I stutter. I just can’t vocalise all the thoughts and feelings and make decisions that need to be made.

I’m a coward.

I’m miserable. I have never missed someone so much in all my life and yet a part of me wonders if it would just be better if I never saw them again. I find myself counting the days. I know the last day we saw each other and I know how anxious I would get every single week, every single day, wondering if I would see him. If he had time for me. If I mattered. I would wait for him in everything that I did. I would be reluctant to make other plans just in case he might maybe want to see me although chances were he wouldn’t have time for me anyway. It felt like everything I did revolved around him. It stills feels that way sometimes. I don’t want that.

I really want to matter to someone. I want someone to love me. To pick me. To chose me. To want me.

I don’t want to live my life being the after thought, the burden. The one that doesn’t matter.

I want more and I know that this isn’t where I’m going to find it and that breaks what little of my heart I have left.

2 thoughts on “Living a secret, living a lie.

  1. I get that. I had a guy that I liked when I was younger. I did date him when I was 17. Although he didn’t care about me the way that I cared about him. I eventually broke it off with him and just went to get my knife from him.


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