Nothing's Worth Not Having You
It's so easy.
Stepping in front of a mirror. Looking, just looking at yourself. Ugly, arrogant, ignorant and unlovable. You're all of these things, to a mirror.
You're all of these things to yourself.
But to her?
How can she think of you in such light? She hasn't the right to. No one should have the right to lie to themselves in such a way. No one should see you as one ounce better than you are. Better is not the word for it. Better suggests there was some good to begin with. But you're no good.
She sees you as her knight in shining armor. She sees you as the one to whisk her away from the mundane life she leads. She sees you as beautiful, charming, sweet, yes, even tactful! Not because you are, but because that's what she wants to see in a girl. A girl she wants to love.
She never thought love would come to her in the way you did. So in her mental image of you, she fixes you. She moulds you in her mind to make you what she wanted all along. Something that you're not. Better.
It's too easy.
Looking in that mirror. Raising a hand. It's clenching something, and you're oddly reminded of a baby's fist, and the human instinct to curl fingers around objects.
You're ugly. You're arrogant. You're ignorant. You're unlovable. Unloved.
She doesn't love you. She loves the idea of you. Something you'll never be.
She's naive. To think the pair of you would ever make it? Ha! Too far, the distance between her heart and yours. And not just by miles.
It's simple.
Opening your fist. The light catches a glint from the object in your hand to the mirror. You haven't done this in a long time. And for the first time, you're attempting with intent.
You won't ever look in the mirror again. Into her face again. Into the world again.
She says she can't get over you, would never.
But she will. You don't deserve her, it's just not feasible. Nothing is.
And while she's far away, dreaming of the perfect you, the real you is cutting away your ties to life.
You watch your blood in the mirror. It seems more real from such perspective. You smile at the ugly, the arrogant, the ignorant. The unloved.
One last time your lips part, forming the words that have been in your mind for over a year:
"Nothing's worth not having you. Except perhaps escaping you. Without a broken heart."