The Person I Used to Be

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Summary

The hardest part of a breakup is accepting that it is over. That no matter how hard you worked for this relationship that you thought was secure, it was always destined to fail. No matter how hard I tried to stand out and be special, I was only met with the same result repeatedly: the notion that I was the exact opposite of special. What do you call someone who is not academically gifted, uniquely beautiful, or athletically endowed? What words would describe someone who is socially aware and highly passionate but simultaneously stagnant and burnt out? Where is the line in which you differentiate someone who is traumatized from someone who just has a rocky relationship with their family, friends, and self? I guess you’d just refer to them as someone average At best, normal. For a long time, I thought being special was inherent and obvious when it came around but, in hindsight, all the brokenness and shallow attempts to be anything more were just meaningless. Being average is inherited. It’s passed down from lineage after lineage of battered down, overworked women and overcompensating, tortured men. No one loves you when you are average. Enjoy this collection of pieces that describe what it truly feels not to feel special. I lost myself trying to love someone who was destined to not love me and this is my journey to figuring out how to cope with that.

Genre
Poetry/Romance
Author
n. le
Status
Ongoing
Chapters
3
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
13+

No one loves you when you are average.

No one loves you when you are average.


That’s not to say you won’t love or be loved.

Everyone feels love at some point,

in some form or another.


It’s simply that you’ll never be in love

with someone who is just as profoundly enthralled as you are.

Love for someone average is a death sentence

that looms with no execution date.


Just an overall understanding you will lose one day,

and the person making that lethal injection

is the person you’ll sincerely want to love.


Love as a normal person is a poison.

It will infect you slowly

until one day it gives out. I fell in love a lot of times,

and to this day, I will tell you that no single person

has entered my life that I don’t love anymore.


What simplicity brings is complacency.

It entails a lifetime of praise for how well

you compromise and communicate that is riddled

with hidden agendas and resentment.


Growing up, it’s easy to think that the simple life lessons

we are taught are valued; truly maturing

is recognizing that is not true. I think deep down

I was always meant to play this small role.

Even in my own stories and life,

I became a stepping stone for those I loved

and those who attempted to love me back.