Self-help can’t help

I’m meant to be over him. I’m meant to never want to see him again. I’m meant to be done.

He came back and I went running back to him. He didn’t even have to try. I told myself I was going there to take charge, but who am I kidding? I am never in charge, when it comes to him.

I went back and all I could do is compare myself to the freaking goddess he was with before me. All I can see is her doing everything better than I ever could. I feel unworthy of his time. After all that happened, I just feel weak when I’m around him. I feel like a fool who is unable to stand up for what I want. Because when I’m with him, all I want is to make him happy. All I can think about is what can make his day? I turn into a submissive servant, ready to take his order. I kept telling myself this time I was in control. I lied to myself. Again. I lose myself completely in that man.

I honestly think to myself that I don’t matter. How can I when I’m just the frumpy, quiet, moody and sad girl that can’t handle the world. I need him to do it for me. I need him to save me.

He doesn’t though. Why should he? He needs to save himself and he’s been doing so well at it.

I can’t get out of my head that I’m not good enough. There’s probably some girl messaging him right now, and she’ll wow him away. Because how could he be wow’d by me?

I can’t keep friends, my family barely talk to me. I implode the relationships around me.

I watched his birthday, how many people adore and love him. Myself included. Even after everything that’s happened, all the thing’s he’s done.

The pathetic side of me compared it to my own birthday. The drought of love. I reminded my parents, it was my birthday. They said they didn’t forget, they were just busy. I barely heard from anyone. My best friend didn’t make any kind of fuss. I felt so unimportant on that day, like I didn’t matter. I cried and cried and cried. Because that’s the reality, the truth of the situation. I’m not good enough. My flaws are too much for me to keep people close. For them to remember me.

I feel so silly thinking these things. Feeling this lurching desperation for love and acceptance.

I’m too sad, needy, inconsistent, flakey with a large dose of victim mentality for people to want me around.

That’s why I want to be alone. Because I’m okay with me. I’m not going to leave or abandon me. I appreciate me. If I keep to myself I can’t let anyone else down or see them walk away. I don’t have to sit there and question who I am.

Because I’m sick of creating lists, reading books and trying to find ways to be better.

Only to keep letting them all down.