Why is falling in love with someone’s potential so dangerous? I mean… potential to grow is supposed to be a GOOD thing, right?!

Thing is… you can’t MAKE someone believe in their own potential, let alone work towards it. No matter how hard you try. And? We are all only responsible for our own shit, nobody else’s. Period.

But… I’m a glutton for punishment, I guess. Some of this will probably sound pretty damn conceited, but know that that’s not who I am. In fact, I barely have confidence in myself, so… conceit isn’t even on my feckin radar.

My major problem with romantic relationships is being able to see and want to foster my partner’s potential. I ignore the red flags, exercise patience and understanding even in the worst situations, and sacrifice so much of myself to prop them up, to help them grow into what they COULD be… all to my own fucking detriment.

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(Side Quest: Fuck me, this one slaps…)

Ok, sorry… had to interject that one before going on. Jesus tits.

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Where was I?!

Ah, yes… lighting myself on fire to keep my partner warm. And the cycle fucking repeats. Again. I would say “third time’s a charm” but… nah. The hope for that has dwindled to almost nothing.

I dreamt about The Dementor again last night. It’s probably why I’m in such a feckin mood this morning. I have an idea why my brain keeps trying to “soothe” me with dreams of my ex, who was a Narcissistic Twat that always wore “Accept me for who I am” and “I told you I was an asshole in the beginning” like fucked up badges that gave him the right to treat me like shit and get away with it. And the dreams are good. Like… as though he’s improved and grown into the potential I saw in him when we dated and beyond. The fuck, brain? Why?! I swear…

So where does that leave me now?

Well… I think I’m going to call it “Bittersweet Purgatory” – cuz why not? It is neither a Heaven nor Hell (whatever this means to you), but a depressing amalgamation of both. I look at The Boyfriend and my heart skips two beats. The first skip because he’s handsome, his smile and dimples kill me, his laughter sends shivers down… my spine (yeah… spine… 😳). And the second skip comes when I realize that I love – yet another – man that doesn’t love me back in the way I need and want. I’m left to wallow in self-pity because the overwhelming feelings of being Too Much and Not Enough at the same time fester deep in the bowels of this hole I’ve found myself in. And I die a little every time.

The word “Bittersweet” got dug up again because fuck it. It fits. I applied that word to my last relationship, as well. I thought I’d gotten to bury it in the graveyard where my happiness went, but… I was wrong.

I know I say this a lot, but… I’m fucking tired. The war inside myself that says “You are/I am/we are worth the fight” gets overpowered by the shit self-esteem of Too Much/Not Enough and the “I don’t think I’m ‘cut out’ for relationships” that’s at play (and that ain’t coming from MY face hole).

I just… why can’t the person I chose, the person that hooked me with sweet words and actions in the beginning, just BE who they said they were? Why can’t they see the potential I see and strive to meet it? Why am I the one the has to suffer so inexorably and inexplicably?! When is it MY turn to be lifted up, to have that love I so desperately need and have been deprived of my entire life? Why do I have to love myself like this when I prove time and time again that I am capable AND willing to love others this way, showing that it IS POSSIBLE for someone else to do the same for me?!

And on that note, I leave you with THIS gem: