The game

The truth comes easily and so clear to me now, I don’t love him… I’ve never loved him. I don’t have to pretend anymore, he knows it was all a lie. Everything I felt and forced myself to feel only out of a sick need to be adored and admired. But it wasn’t a need that anyone could please or fulfill, surely not anyone. I thought that he would properly be sufficient, even more than that, I thought he would be the one to finally satisfy me, and maybe he did, the first time we’ve met and the few times after that, maybe I did feel something but I was never sure if that something was true if that something was it. After all, all I got from him were these maybes, these uncertainties, and I hate myself for doing what I did, for the lies, the acts, the pretending and all of that. I’ve never set out to hurt him; he was just unfortunate enough to be the only man my eyes saw that one night.

“Men don’t know how to love, they only know how to possess” my mother taught me that. And it’s true; I’ve had my share of men to know how true that is. I was always a prize to them, something they wanted to obtain, never really cared who I am, it was always about the chase and once they had me they wanted to show me off, for a little time that is, they took me to all the fancy parties, bought me the expensive dresses and made me feel like I was their queen, all the showering of affection, the nice empty words they've whispered, the holding of hands and waiting for the camera flash to go off once it did my hand got dropped within an instant.

I got accustomed to the game, I knew what they wanted from me and I knew what I had to give, but everything at a time, all a calculation; when to be shy and nervous, when to be passionate and aggressive and when to be distant and cold. When it was all over, I start again with someone else; a different player but nevertheless the same game.

I know how terrible I sound, and you’re free to judge me but if you don’t know what it’s like then you can’t blame me. I never asked for this, I never wanted to be like this, this cold hearted woman with nothing to give but a play-on-play, a textbook moves and affectionate embraces that I’ve grown tired to do.

When you’re used to being used you become somewhat of a numb pathetic excuse for everything, I’ve never known what it’s like to be loved, truly loved by someone else. My father was never around and I don’t even remember him to be angry with him, my mother only taught me how to survive in life, ever since I was a child she brought me up to realize that life is a vicious game and we all play along, the weak and the innocent have no place and they’re quickly cut out. And when it came to love the only thing she said to me: “love is a lie we make ourselves believe and when we’re left alone, hurtin’ we’re angry ‘cause it deceived. Be smart honey, that’s all you can be. Play the game to get to where you need to be. Your looks will go away and when that happens you’ll see; a man will never love you the way you think you deserve to be.”

He will soon come back just to leave me, he’ll say his goodbyes and he’ll walk out that door, like all the rest of them did before him. Never again will I let myself slip away like this, he was never good for me. He made me crazy and jealous and I’m never those things. Maybe I’ve confused the lust for love, maybe it was the deep desire I felt for him, maybe it was the comfort that his company brought me or maybe it was the fact that he was the first man who never tried to buy my feelings.

Maybe... all I know is a few maybes.