I’ve had love, and I’ve lost love. I’ve earned love, taken advantage of love, had my love abused, and spread love like wildfire. I’ve seen love, felt love, and even tasted love. Witnessed love, and seen it disappear right before my very eyes. I’ve held onto love more often than I should’ve, and have given love when I had none left to give. But through it all, I’ve still managed to have more love in me now than when I first started.
And I owe it all to the people who didn’t love me. At least not in the way I deserved to be loved.
So thank you. Thank you to the exes that broke my heart, or gave me a reason to break up with them. The boys who were selfish, manipulative, and withheld crucial information. The boys who rode in on donkeys dressed in white stallion costumes wearing knock-off suits of armor. The ones who sold fake fairytales they already knew the endings to, and auctioned off broken promises held together with tape. The immature boys who were overly possessive and thought they could pass off insecurity as “love.” The ones who hit below the belt without even laying a finger on me. The ones that lead me on … and on … and on. The race car drivers that turned 180º’s in record time. The magicians whose disappearing acts had David Blaine calling on the other line. And the storytellers who were so good at their craft they actually believed their own lies. The boys who would rather take a bullet point blank than tell the truth.
To all the boys I’ve loved before, for showing me I deserved so much more.
But most of all to my father. The guy that loved me SO MUCH he couldn’t even sign his name on a piece of paper, because he wasn’t there. The guy who didn’t make me his little Princess, or let me know that no one will ever be good enough for me. The guy who didn’t teach me how to do a proper lay-up, or how to play the guitar, or how to drive a stick. The guy who didn’t cringe in disapproval at my too revealing prom-dresses, or shine his shotgun in the living room whenever a date would pick me up. The guy who will never make me Mickey Mouse pancakes or offer me allowance even when I’m 35. The guy who never braided my hair ugly on picture day, or drank tea with me and my teddy-bears. The guy who never kissed me on my forehead and told me I was beautiful, and the guy who will NEVER walk me down the aisle at my wedding.
Holy shit that sounds like a sob story doesn’t it? It is, but please don’t feel sorry for me if you do. Because this is also the same man who taught me how to fill my own voids, and love myself when the people who ultimately should – won’t. All joking and sarcasm aside, he is the same man who proved that blood isn’t always as thick as water. He enforced the quote “Friends are the family you choose for yourself.” He taught me how NOT to handle my responsibilities, how NOT to set my priorities straight, and what NOT to look for in a man.
But most importantly he taught me how NOT to love.