To the guy who isn’t worth it:

For some reason, I think it’s a good idea to give you chance after chance after chance. For some reason, I keep thinking you’ll change, that this time maybe our plans won’t fall through. For some reason, I think you’ll respond. For some reason, I hope that you won’t be the shitty person you really actually are.

I keep wasting my time on you. Why? Maybe it’s because there’s something about you that I wish so desperately I could understand. Maybe it’s because I keep hoping that you won’t disappoint.

To the guy who isn’t worth it, I keep wasting my time on you and it needs to stop. You have taken up so much of my time and energy and patience and I’m getting to the point where I can’t do it anymore. I’m getting to a point where if I invest anything else, I will be sacrificing my sanity.

I wish I could say there was a definitive moment when I realized that you aren’t worth my time. I should have known, every time we made plans that weren’t official, or every time we joked about hanging out. But I have to say, after you stood me up, I sorta got a clue.

But I guess there’s a certain point in every person’s life when we have to let go. We have to realize that there are going to be some people out there who will take and take and take and not care that they leave the other person drained. There are some people out there who will take until nothing is left. And we have to accept the fact that we can’t change them— that no matter how hard we try, no matter how many chances we give, they won’t change. We have to accept this before we destroy ourselves.

I’m glad I got away when I did, before I got too invested. I’m glad I had some sense of realization that you were never going to be who I hoped you would. I’m thankful that I got to see your true colors when I did, before I was caught up in the rainbow before me.

To the guy who isn’t worth it, I feel bad for you. I don’t blame you, I blame all of the people who told you that this is who you needed to be. I blame that small voice in your head that tells you that you need to be this way, that you’ll be accepted if you are. I feel bad for you because you will continue on like this, and complain about being alone.

I tried, all I did was try — try to change you, try to give you pieces of myself to replace the ones you were missing. Thought that maybe you would be different for me.

But I guess I was wrong.

I can only feel sorry for the next person who buys into your act, the next girl who has the same hopes for you I did.