You Didn’t Choose Me, But I Am Better Than Her

You made your choice, and the choice wasn’t me. You now believe you made the wrong decision, but it was the right one for me.

And here’s the most important thing you need to know:

I am better than her. I will not put up with your shit. I will not look the other way and allow myself to be made a fool of. You can’t play me, cheat on me, or deceive me. You can’t convince me to believe the lies you spout because I know they’re just empty promises of what will never come to be, words you’ll use because you have an ulterior motive to fulfill your own desire. You can’t treat me like a fix you need to feed your addiction to me.

I am better than her. I will stand for what I want, demand what I deserve and accept nothing less. That means I always expect to be a priority. That means you can’t con your way into my life or my heart, you can’t manipulate me into getting whatever you want the way you’re so used to. I won’t buy into the love fantasy you present.

I am better than her. I will not answer your 1am texts, nor will I give in when you call and tell me how much you want me, how you need me because you “love me.” I will not break plans with people I care about to meet you, to give you the satisfaction of seeing me in person, because I know you’ll find a way to let me down.

The girl who puts up with you and excuses your behavior? The girl who allows you to treat her like shit and still loves you? That girl used to be me. I was her, but I’m finally better than her. I let myself get lost in my love for you, lost in the love I was convinced you had for me. I gave so much of myself and only got emotional pain in return. There was never a point where I had no doubts, never a point that I was secure you felt the same love towards me, and yet I was stuck in an emotional fog that wouldn’t clear.

I don’t expect you to stop wanting me. You, with your pathetic emptiness and narcissistic ways, do not have the capacity to ever do better than someone like me. So you can keep trying to push me, beg me, see if you can get me in bed because it’s almost comical now. I’m past the point of hurt with you. I’m past the point where anything you say cracks my emotional walls.

But go ahead and keep popping back in my life just so I can shut you down. Shit, to be honest, in some sick way it’s actually flattering. It’s satisfying to be at a point where you’re finally the one who’s spiraling to try to win me over. It’s empowering to know that I have that effect on you, comforting to know that you know you can’t have me and can’t do better than me. After all you put me through, it makes me feel so fucking good and that’s why I’ll probably never block your number.

Because it’s my karma, it’s vengeance for me and all of my heartache, for the years of my self-doubt, tears, and suffering. And it’s validation that I’ve come so far and thrived without you in my life.

Lie in the bed you’ve made, pretend to be happy in your sad life, and know that although I was once a victim of your manipulative ways, I am so much better than the girl I was and I will always deserve better than you.