You know the type of girl: the one who thinks in black and white, sees in grey but loves in color. She’s hard to get to know, but it’s not her fault; she’s given away pieces of herself only to be disappointed and now she hardly ever bargains even the smallest fragment.
When it mattered most, the people she expected to be there for her missed the mark. And as agonizing as it is, she could only try so hard and give so many second changes before she had to let go and move on.
She had to let go because she is more. She is more fire than water, more wind than sky, more light than dark. She is more than you know- more than she knows- and she needs room to grow. And if you don’t give her room, if you don’t give her space to fall in love with life and all that is has to offer her, then she’ll forget who she is and who she is capable of becoming. And as she loses pieces of herself in the depths of mediocrity, you’ll lose her.
There will be moments, nights or whole days even, where her mind will go to war with her heart, a vicious battle between what she knows and what she feels. Her mind will play tricks on her but even in the darkest hour, she doesn’t need you to come save her. She doesn’t need someone to play hero, she just needs someone to remind her that she is worth saving; she can do the rest herself. If you can’t stay by her side and support her, she’ll take away the option.
She’s the girl who is a contradiction: she feels too much but shows it too little. If she loves you, really loves you, you’ll never have to doubt it. But she’s never had someone match her effort, she’s never had someone fight to keep her. So if you aren’t desperately afraid to lose her, then that’s exactly what will happen.
She is broken. Her story is fragmented, her soul is damaged and tired, her heart is full of cracks. She is strong, so strong, but she is broken. And that’s what she’s looking for, longing for even: broken love. The kind that is honest and rejects the idea of perfection. But if you hold her to the standards of flawlessness, she’ll never trust you and even though you never really had her, you’ll lose her.
When you see she’s hurting, you tell her that you’re sorry, so sorry, that you haven’t been there for her, that you’ll try harder. But that’s the fifth time you’ve told her this lie and she’s long past believing you. You finally realize what she’s known for so long and with desperation you plead, ‘I don’t want to lose you.’ But it’s too late; she’s already out the door. That’s when he knew he lost her.
Maybe what I’m trying to say is if you want to lose someone, anyone, put them second. Second to your job, to school, to your friends, second to anything and everything. If you want her gone, treat her like an option, not a priority. An option that you’ll never make time for, except in the rare moments when it’s convenient for you.
This is how you lose her, and that’s how you lost me.
