“But then I, too, came to the realisation that, you see, I have used other people. I have broken hearts and promises. I have done bad things to other people. Things that have hurt them and things that have made them wonder if they are good enough for me. Perhaps I didn’t do it intentionally like you did with me. But as much as you used me, I used you too. I sought your comfort, your warmth, your patience and your never-ending love. I always told you one more story to get your attention. I always fumbled with my hands because I knew you would eventually take them into yours and stop me from fumbling with them. I was accidently always 10 minutes too early because I wanted more time with you. I always told you what was on my mind because I wanted to hear your voice some more. Because I wanted you to dedicate your words to me, and only me. When he left me, I came back to you. It’s true. I intensified our bond, let you get closer to me and myself closer to you. I came to you because I felt like you were the only person left, who would always take me back. You always had my back, I believe. Well, I’m not entirely sure but I like to think that you did. And I do think that you had every right to leave. Maybe you felt that I was using you. And here I was, wondering for months why you had left and what made you leave so suddenly. Now, I think I know the answer. I used you too. Just like you used me. And it seems to me you couldn’t handle a taste of your own medicine.”
— e.s. // taste of your own medicine.
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