My Mr. Wrong

Another sleepless night. 

Another night, waiting for him to come back and speak to me in his amusing, yet so attractive way. I’m waiting for him to come to me and say the things my soul has been hungry to hear.

He promised me his time once and broke it. He promised it again, and I do not know whether I should wait for his return or not. I do not know if my body wants to suffer, by killing my sleep in every kind of way. 

It will only make me tired and weak, and give me terrible eyebags. I think about how previously I skipped my sleep, only so I could wait for him to call me, but he didn’t. He purposely put little effort and went to sleep, and poor me waiting. 

He had slept peacefully upon the nights where I stayed awake, hoping for him to come to me. I was hoping for him to make me his priority, but I was a fool. You can’t make someone feel something for you which isn’t there. 

I look back at the girl who throughout the day waited for him texting back, and would reply in seconds after his hourly replies, and I say: 

“Don’t let him waste your time. Don’t let him play you. You’re the player. You can get out of this. Don’t let him hurt you. Don’t be vulnerable. He does not value you, he doesn’t know your worth. He might show his perfection, but he is no where close to it. Be more.” 

Poor girl, she would never listen to me. She was determined that he would come back for her. She knew that he would be there and hold her, no matter how late it was and how long he took. 

She was silly enough to want him back everytime, and leave aside every other man, for as men were nothing to her if she had him. But she was numb, and wasn’t aware that there were people she deserved, rather than people she wanted. 

She deserved all the things she was offered by someone who actually loved her, not by the man she wanted passionately. And she took the chance.

She let other men love her and value her. She got closer to them, and did all she could to wash him out the man out of her mind, including all the bad and miserable things, but his thought still never left her. Her passion was enormous for him. 

Passion shall only be for the one who is not ashamed or afraid to give it back. Loyalty shall only be for the one who stays faithful and doesn’t go around making his apperance dirty. 

Love should only be given to someone who is capable of it. 

Do not give it to a heartless young monster, that would like to explore all kinds of species, before settling down with “the One”.  

That monster will claim to love you, then destroy you slowly and painfully, then chase you as soon as you distance yourself, and it will start to faze you in every possible way. 

He broke my heart in every possible goddamn way; I was there and let him, because it felt like he was enjoying it. I’m not aware of the fact, that if he was doing it consciously or subconsciously, but I let him. 

I wonder who he was before someone came up to him, and shattered him in to pieces, because no one can know how it feels to destroy someone, unless they haven’t been destroyed themselves. 

I’ve always been warned about people, but little did I know to take caution from the boy with the mesmerizing eyes, and his heartbeat, that would take my breath away. He had a sharp beard with a beautiful face structure and his voice made my heart beat faster. 

But he vanished every now and then, up to the day where I decided to let him go. I gave up on him, and I gave up on waiting for him. My days went by and I never thought about him, only sometimes when I really couldn’t hold myself back. I avoided to talk about him with anyone, and I managed to run away from it. 

He tried coming back for me but I felt too shattered and vulnerable to ever let him touch my broken pieces again. It’s like I’m a soap bubble that would pop by his one touch. I’m done letting him only put me down as soon as he comes back. 

He felt so right, and was so wrong.


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