It’s not you, it’s me

I notice him responding to his friend’s text messages while I’m with him. I wonder why he doesn’t respond to my messages as quickly as he does for that person. I can’t help but feel insignificant but I say nothing because I don’t mean enough to him to make him change.

I fear that if I say something, he’ll just say I’m overreacting or overly sensitive. I grew up believing that men don’t like crazy women, so I don’t say a word. I let it slip away. I’m not mad at him for the way he treats me but at myself for letting him treat me in ways I don’t appreciate.

Men don’t torture me. I torture myself by letting men get away with behaviours that I can’t stand.

It’s not you, it’s me. It’s me finally realizing you’re terrible for me.



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