vices
“you’re my only vice” is what I was told. Every time we broke up and got back together, that’s what he said. At first, I thought it was romantic. He’s addicted to me, he can’t seem to get enough of me no matter how hard he tried.
But then I realized. Vices are bad. According to the dictionary, vices are immoral and wicked behaviors. I was the bad choice. Something he didn’t want to do, but had to for the sake of pleasure.
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I wasn’t loved, I was addictive. I chose to allow someone to leave his morals for time with me. Someone I love. And constantly, I hurt him. Because maybe he’s right, maybe I am evil.
Now, I’ve accepted it. I’m bad. I’m not a good person. So I try not to be, not that it’s very hard to be bad. I’ve tried sweet and all it’s done is bite me in the ass and leave me in debt. So scumbag it is. Vice it is. Bad choice it is.
I guess if you don’t want your heart broken, you’ve got to break hearts. Yet my attachment issues are telling me to stop doing all that and do good, find a loving partner. Unfortunately somehow, whenever I think I’ve found the one, they end up not being interested, leading me on for months, then telling me I’ve fucked up for dating around while they were deciding whether I was worth loving or not.
That’s why I don’t think I’m worth loving. I’ll always be number two in everyone’s lives. My parents, my sister, my friends. I’m never first, not even to myself. I guess that’s why I keep fucking up. Fuck I don’t even know if I’m making sense anymore. Whatever. Goodnight.
