I used to feel that judgement. That helpless feeling when you were always misunderstood. When you felt like you were being taken advantage of. When you felt the most alone in the world.
But I had that person.
That person that stood by me. Who understood what I had seen. Who overheard what I had heard. The person who I had the most respect for.
However, I wasn’t a perfect person. But yet, to my eyes, that person was.
And I had wished for that person to realize that. To recognize their worth in this world.
When everything fell into place. And when I looked at the world a little differently, a bit kinder, with a lighter heart. That person somehow became, a resentment against mine.
That person quickly became an avid point in my life, that stood by as a reminder that how I am now, was not how I was back then.
I felt enamoured. I felt elated. I felt content. But yet, there was a part of me that felt that all my progress was going nowhere. Especially when that person reminded me of my negativities.
That one person soon became what others actions were to me. That person became a constant reminder, an unsettling point that surrounded me, someone that I could not get rid of. Someone who, if I did rid of them from my life, I’d know I was the reason for their downfall.
But the thing is,
I wasn’t that person for them.
And I don’t know how I didn’t realize this from the beginning.
I had put that pressure on them to constantly feel the need to fill that void that I lacked in myself.
To be the one who stood through it all, and watched over me silently. The one who had to be all the components that I was not able to get to myself.
And that hurt, that I wasn’t their person.
I wanted to be.
I truly did.