God, I hate myself. Drank a little too much last night, started talking shit about him again.

God, I hate myself.
Wish I wasn’t as desperate as I am, to feel loved by someone else who might just be the one if I ever gave him a chance.

God, I truly hate myself.
There isn’t a moment that passes by where I’m not thinking of his brown eyes. Everyone says I’m crazy for falling for that mess of a man, strange talk, awkward stance.

God, I hate where this is going.
I might be falling, I might be falling for that knockoff smile reserved for me. Not many people enjoy the presence of the man behind those peculiar fashion choices I adore.

Shit. I’ve done it again, spoken shit as if we were best friends.

I don’t deserve him at all. As much as I tell our friends I’m over him, I’d die if I saw him with another girl. Tall, tan, blonde, gorgeous model from El Condado.

My heart would sink to the bottom of my feet, tripping myself towards another bottle of the prestigious wine we used to drink. To pretend as if I don’t care once again. I care too much I would straight up double text him without expecting any of his promised plans.

God, help me please.
I’ve been dragged into lowest of his priorities, he keeps pretending to actually like me. Expectations weren’t high, but he contemplated to pulverize mine.

God, give me strength.
I know you don’t approve of revenge, but I’m gonna make him regret ever twisting my red strings to boost his ego. Can’t wait to see him become querulous and desperate to gain what’s left of my affection while I continue scheming against the worst version of his reflection.

God, oh God.
Help me let him go, the truth is I may soon not be over him. I’m still performing in this spectacle, but even circus mermaid freaks like me must put an end to the show. Smile and wave at this point, pretend it’s okay when he says we’re just friends.

He doesn’t deserve me. As much as I told our friends he may the one, I’m done lying to myself and everyone.