Second Place Is The First To Lose

As I’m on the train on my way somewhere after being at my fuck buddy’s house I realize how much I really hate something. I don’t know if I hate men or myself or whatever. But Jesus do I have a problem with being second best.

My ex left me for some girl way before we broke up, the last one left me for another girl despite me being the one he almost fell in love with, and no matter how much I do for this one it seems he’s always reaching for someone else, someone better.

And this time around I was starting to let hope back in. That maybe I was more than good enough to be more than second best. And it seems like the more I hope the more I’m proven wrong. At this point, it doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s more like a “oh cmon really” form of exasperation. Not even exasperation. I don’t feel anything towards it.

But maybe the reason why I’m second best to all these past lovers is because I let myself be. I give so much of myself and somehow these boys are always in search of something better. And I kinda just lay in their beds until they can find someone to fill their arms with.

With this lover, I’m really indifferent to being second best. But I know there has to be something, someone, better for me. I can’t just keep being a fill in for all the lovers they search for. And I can’t blame myself for being inadequate because I know I’m not. Sometimes when I’m feeling overconfident I tell myself it’s because I’m too woman for them.

And I don’t like to see it that way. I don’t like to push myself past humility. But fuck that. Boys are trash


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