This Painting of You

I will paint a very distinctive picture of you but I will not describe how you appear. I will describe how you make me feel and I hope this message finds its way to you.


You couldn’t complete me

Often we look for someone who makes us feel whole, who fills up a certain void within us — but that’s the opposite of what I get from you. With you, it’s the feeling of always wanting more or… just simply always wanting. You were a mystery that I’ve never gotten to solve because you kept it at that. You were in and out of the scene faster than the beating of my heart when I think about you. And it’s not because I’ve fallen in love but because (I calculate all my actions and go over the pro’s and con’s several times when making decisions and) I know you’re trouble and I’m definitely no risk-taker.

Feeling “complete” comes with a sense of security and invulnerability, two of which I know I might never get with you. You make me vulnerable and that’s quite a feat considering I’ve spent most of my life building walls around me and staying strong.

You teach me to appreciate myself

Despite the fact that you make me feel weak, I admit that more often than not I’m filled with so much pride for the shallow compliments and empty praise I receive. Your actions have taught me one good thing that will never forget: “Get off your high horse and learn to love yourself for the right things.” Thanks to what you’ve done, I now know that the reason why I thought I needed someone like you. I needed you for all the wrong reasons.

The only reason I’ve been feeling this way for the past few months was because I thought I was going to be less of me without you. I had you already, anyways, didn’t I? No. I am me because of the values I set and the things I believe in and, looking back,  I’m glad to have kept it that way. Although it saddens me that you might not have appreciated me for what I’ve expressed, I’m glad I chose to be myself. Thank you for making me realize that neither you nor anyone can impose the kind of person I “am” or “should be.” I’ve learned to appreciate myself for my beliefs and values. I’ve learned to not have myself defined by who I’m with or what others say about me.

“You should be careful about those who don’t even try”

You quip, as you turn your back against me. To which I responded, laughingly: “Yeah, maybe I should.” I’ve taken everything that you said quite seriously despite the fact that it must have been late in the night with our eyes half-shut. My heart beat a lot faster, feeling as if I had been turned down. I wasn’t sure, it was a feeling so foreign to me. Again, not because I’ve never felt heartbreak or rejection — but because I was unsure if you were really letting go or if you were trying to get me to chase you instead. Neither of which I was going to like, but knowing which you were trying to do would’ve been great. For my sanity, at least.

You know I didn’t even try and maybe that’s something foreign to you, too. And I can call you all the things I want to call you, and tell everyone and anyone what you’re like but at the end of the day, I would just still be guessing. You’d still be that riddle that I had almost solved, the one that made me love “me” and the one that probably got away.

I’m not writing about you to get you to “rethink”. In fact, I’ve come to terms with it being status quo. What this was intended for was for me to tell you, in a more extensive form other than SMS or snarky quotes of feelings through tweets or Instagram, that I appreciate you because you will probably always make me feel this way.

People do come and go, but there’s always a reason why paths cross, why things happen, and why certain words are said (or unspoken). You may not be mine but that’s okay.


5 responses to “This Painting of You”

  1. You deserve better, Cat! I’m glad you chose to be yourself. You deserve someone who loves you for being you, not for being someone else. Hugs and see you soon!

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