we are two unloveable entities

dear k-

somedays i don't like who i am at all.

i didn't cry until now, when i decided to write you back. i made it through the whole day, but i can't do it anymore. i could no longer pretend that i wasn't hurt.

reading your letter cuts deep. i know now how you feel. i am never good enough. it doesn't matter how many people tell me i'm smart, pretty, funny, whatever- fuck it. it's either not true or just a waste of time. i am a waste of space. i toll out tireless amounts of emotion, effort, and attention and what do i always receive in return?

emptiness.

do i present myself as someone who doesn't need affection? why do i seem to effortlessly manage to find the relationships where the opposite party never wishes to return my investments?

how hard these words fall upon my ears at 3 am, with their slow drunken drawl, so matter of fact as if it were simply recounting the weather report for the next day: "i don't think i want to date anyone. you're great, but i don't know about dating. i don't know."

give me a fucking reason. tell me why this didn't come up 6 months prior. don't invite me over in the middle of the night and then suddenly stumble upon this realization. don't act surprised when i seem "serious" and "grumpy" afterwards.

i am so sorry. i am so sorry. i know how it feels. i cannot give you any better reason than what every single one of them give me. i just don't know. it's okay if you want to hate me for it. i don't hate them, but mostly i just feel disappointment in myself.

i don't like myself some days.

will i someday look back on this and have no regrets?
-k