Don't.
Is what they all tell me.

Let go.
As if it were so easy.

Move on.
As though there's nothing more to the story.

But it's so much easier said than done.

And they judge as though they know me.
They speak as if they knew it all.
And they dismiss me as just another idiot
In a love story gone wrong

But who am I to blame them when I wouldn't speak to defend myself. Simply because my pride, my purity, my dignity aren't as important as keeping you safe from the anger of the world when they find out what you have done to me.

And so I smile and bear the ridicule of being just another foolish, trusting girl. Because this is so much better than having you be the one to bear the shame.

In the end, it's still all for you.

Well, is this it? You finally stopped talking to me. This thing that I have been telling myself to do, you've done it yourself. And I wish I did it first, so that it wouldn't have to be me who feels the sting.

In the end, the person you so looked down on is the one I appreciate more. Between the two of you, between your principle of trying not to hurt me by being nice and giving me false hopes, and his of telling me the truth straight to my face as flatly and as rudely and as hurtfully as possible--because really, how I feel isn't any of his business--I like his more. At least after the initial shell shocking crash, I can pick up the pieces and walk away without having to look back. Ever. At least I cannot say there is more I could have done because we both know there isn't anything more. What about you then? This "let's stay friends cause I'm a nice guy, yeah i like you too. oh not in that way. yeah, sometimes in that way. no i don't love you." so on. it's confusing and it's frustrating and I know you don't mean it but you should know. You're supposed to be the expert. Or maybe you're just an expert in whoring around.

Yes, I sound bitter because I am. And I know none of what I just said is true. I know he's trying to be nice, and I know I'm just irritating him bu not letting go. So I am. So I am trying. And so I will.

This is the end. This. Is. The. End. I would stop talking to you. I would stop chatting with you. I already deleted your number so that's done. I'd block you on FB too, but then, I wouldn't have gaming friends, and yeah, that's a loss. Hopefully, this is enough.

This is the end. This wll leave me in peace. You and me both.

Here we go again.

Yes, right now I am happy as I could be. I don't know, maybe it's the after-sex endorphins, but right now I am really really happy I got to be with him all last night. I'm happy just remembering he held me in his arms as we slept. I'm happy to know that he still wants me. Yes, even if it is just for sex. Because that's the kind of person I am. When I fall in love, all my self-worth goes out the window. This is the only kind of love I am able to give, this I'll-give-you-everything-you-want-everything-i-am-even-if-i-hate-myself-for-it-afterwards-and-even-if-people-hate-me-for-it love. I learned this from ix. He's always taught me the best lessons.

I know what's coming next. I have been through this cycle enough times to know that a day or two from now I wil regret this all over again, wallow in self-pity and misery and blame the world for making me unlovable.

But right now, I am happy. I choose to be happy, simply because of the fact that I know there is plenty of time for self-doubt later. I choose to be happy because right now I really am. Right now, this is the only thing that matters: that for one night, for one more night, I get to pretend that he chose me.

It's sad, I know, but I choose to be happy.

Literally and figuratively. And you're laughing at me for the first and pitying me for the second. or perhaps you're laughing for both.

I wouldn't know. All I know is that in the end I'm just an afterthought. I' a footnote to your happiness.

I am a sucker. As predicted, I did gave up more than I should have. And now, my reputation is tarnished, everyone thinks badly of me, I'm a slut, and you? Well, nothing. Hello, double standard, we meet again.

And what did I get? Well, it was fun. Really, it was. But at what cost? Even the fondest of memories, when marred with regret aren't so nice anymore.

And after all this I still am not worth it, am I? In the end, I'm just some other random girl in your life who couldn't get enough of you, whom you'd forget after a couple of years. Who was she again, you'd say? You'd briefly remember an eager girl, but then, there would have been many eager girls. I wouldn't have made enough of an impact.

And in the end this is all my fault because you spelled it out clearly enough from the very beginning. n the end you still prefer Cath. No matter what I could do. In this story, I'm Satsuki again. Still. Maybe I'll be Satsuki forever. I'll keep giving everything for nothing. I would keep going even if from the beginning I never stood a chance. Cause this would always be the story of my life.

Why?

You tell myself to walk away from this right here, right now if I loved you. What the hell is that? You're telling me that I shouldn't stay if I loved you because you'll hurt me. And I can easily delude myself into thinking you're just concerned about me, about my heart but somehow I feel as though you only say this so that after all this shit is done I would have no reason, no right to blame you. Because you can always tell me you warned me. Because you can say I insisted and it would all be my fault for letting myself get hurt.

But then, how can you expect me to just walk away? Now, of all times, when I have given up so much already. Maybe I should, so I can keep myself for giving up even more. It's all going to go to waste anyway. I know as much.

So why? Why am I staying?

And here I don't know whether to let myself fall in love knowing I'll hurt myself in the process, or to run away screaming right now, save myself, and live with couldhavebeens. the second options sound pretty sweet, and i'm pretty sure i can tlk myself into it. Kate always said that's it's best to stop while you're ahead, expecially in these kinds of situations. Because then afterwards, you can look back to sweet memories unmarred by the bitter shadows of the upcoming heartbreak. You can just call it off in the middle and say "Well, that was fun."

But I am not looking for fun. If I were, I'd just... what? I can do plenty of other things. just not this. This is too risky to choose just to have "fun".

I tell myself I'm just playing because I know he is, even as he says otherwise. And even as he says so I die a little inside because...

not really because i am second best, but because i'm not even second best. knowing that after all this shit, after i have given up everything he still would never have thought of me as worth it, or even worth very much at all.

because in the end i would have again given my all in exchange for a couple of very much regretted memories.

would i let that happen to me? again.

Ain't you lucky? You get a month long celebration for your birthday. You have two people at your feet doing their best to make you happy. And oh, one of them just did all he can to make you fall in love with him.

Oh, what's that? Yeah, that's right. I remember my own birthday this year. That week, I spent it crying in bed. Why? Because of that person. Because of that person who is so willing, so eager to make you happy. Ain't you lucky?

i love you. i've always loved you and maybe i always will even if i try to fight it. even if you tell me to give up. even if i myself tell me to give up. it's stupid isn't it? this fanatic devotion to you, this stupid willingness to do everything you want me to, this idiotic tendency to try my best to make you happy. it's stupid, and it's a waste of time. i've lost, yet i don't want to admit it. i am like you, but i am not. i am not doing this just so you'd regret just a little that you didn't choose me. i am not after the thrill of the chase. i am after my own happiness. in the end, i am still being selfish. i want you to be happy simply because it makes me happy. love isn't martyrdom after all. it isn't putting others happiness above our own. it is tyrannical in a way, because it is capturing others happiness and making it your own. true love isn't selflessness. it is taking another's interest to heart.

hey you. yes, you. why are you talking to me? why are you talking to me AGAIN? every day, every morning, every single time i go online. it bothers me.

i know we're friends. quite good friends, yeah. but don't you think this is wrong? because every time you talk to me, i flinch inwardly. my dignity takes another bad blow. i want to yell at you. i want to scream, "what do you want?" but that's stupid. i know exactly what you want. and i know that you know i can give it to you if only you can make me say yes.

but i don't want to. i never did.

so please. go away.