By far, I am the last person to claim self-pity. I am a successful, independent, attractive woman. As you can see, I don’t have self-esteem issues. I am a worthy individual who will not be anyone’s second choice.
But when it comes to loving him, he just doesn’t deserve someone like me. I hardly tell him I love him, though he tells me every day. Whenever he holds me, the world seems rather smaller and undaunting. He would do anything and everything in his power to get a smile from me, and all I would do is force a half-ass smile in his direction.
I get choked up when the words I truly want to say to him decides to pour out. I literally become physically ill, my head hurts, my body shakes, the muscle in my chest start constricting. I can’t even tell him I am happy with him even when the moments seize me in such a way that almost have me believing I may be in possession of a good “heart”.
I cannot claim to know what love is, but surely this must be what they speak of. And so I wait. I wait for him to tire, I wait for him to walk away. And when he does, some part of me will rejoice and say, “you knew all along”.