I wrote this a few years ago when I was feeling very raw and self-pitying at the end of a friendship. I’m posting it because it’s an insight into why I build walls around my heart and find it so difficult to trust people and let them in. Sadly it’s not the only time I've felt distraught and betrayed by the loss of a friend and most likely won’t be the last, and this is why I will often run away from people just to see if they care enough to follow me.
"I know I'm unloveable
You don't have to tell me"
Its 1:am I’m sat here alone feeling empty and broken. I don’t know what to do with myself. Last time I was here I wanted to die, not because I’m alone, because let’s face it I always was. I just don’t want to be me. I don’t want to be this girl, with these scars and this pain searing through me. I want to sleep and never wake up, but I can’t. You told me forever and then you threw me away. I can cope with that, but you made me a promise, you swore that you wouldn't just walk away and forget me, you promised we’d always be friends. You held me and you promised, you lied, but worse still, I believed you. After losing so much, I wanted so badly not to lose you too. I held onto your words like a lifeline, but that’s all they were, words.
"Oh, message received
Loud and clear"
The first chance you got you cast me aside like a toy you’d grown bored of. Had it been a flippant disregard then maybe I’d have handled it better, just let it slide like all the other times you hurt me. But you knew how much it would hurt me, you knew you were setting me up for a fall, you knew because I told you. You knew and yet you did it anyway without a moment’s hesitation. And then the coldness in your voice as you told me what an inconvenience I am in your new life. You made me feel so fucking worthless and angry and hurt and abandoned. I’d have done anything for you, I have done so much for you, I was always there, always took your side, always looked out for you. I know I’m not an easy person to be around sometimes, but I don’t believe for a second I did anything to deserve being treated this way. I can’t believe that, because if I’m just getting what I deserve, then what does that say about me? Am I really that worthless and unlovable, that disposable? Am I really that impossible to love?
"And if I seem a little strange
Well, that's because I am"
I’ve always hated telling people how I feel; I hate it because it makes you vulnerable, it gives people the ammunition they need to really hurt you. People like you. I opened up to you, I was honest and wore my heart on my sleeve, I told you my secrets, shared my heart and soul with you and you used it against me. You betrayed and humiliated me, you destroyed the last shred of trust I had in anything, because if you of all people could hurt me that much over nothing, if you could twist the knife and leave me writhing in agony without a second thought, then I really am truly unloveable.