I'm done being second

I like empty theatres. I like how my echo sounds, coming up to me with double and triple force like the walls are trying to magnify my words like they’re trying to make sure everyone heard them.

Maybe because in real life I’m so quiet. Maybe because all the things I want to say are kept trapped in the back of my throat and my tongue is a knot, my mouth zipped tight every time I see you. And yet, my mind is always racing; the thought of you creeping up on me in the most unexpected of times and I get the urge to call you.

Every time I swear I won’t dial your number.
Every time I’ve sworn it, I’ve failed.

It’s like a game to you now, isn’t it? I pretend I’m not begging for something more than what we have, and you act like you don’t know what I’m craving. Every night I cave and I come to you like a hypnotized doll, needing her master’s touch in order to feel alive. But you are no blue fairy; you don’t grant wishes based on kindness and good deeds. No, you’re more like the evil queen in our twisted fairytale: You want everything for yourself. You want your independence and you want your girl by your side. You want her to bring you breakfast in bed, you want her to wake up every morning next to you, you want her to live with you for the rest of your life.

You want her.

I’m just a game, aren’t I? A filler for the things she can’t do perfectly. A pretty thing to warm your bed when she’s away, and eye-candy to make your colleagues and friends jealous; an insecure little girl to stroke your ego.

I’m sick of this.

I’m sick of being second. I’ve never let anyone treat me this way before, but blinded by my love for you I kept telling myself you’ll change. I kept thinking I’ll magically become a priority. I want my smile to be the first thing that pops in your mind when you wake up. I want you to call me in the middle of the day because you just have to hear my voice because even the few hours that separate us feel like centuries to you. I want to be your first choice. I need you to love me as I love you, irreversibly, ceaselessly, infinitely.

I don’t want any more stolen kisses. I don’t want the touches in the dark. I don’t want the half-truths, the dates that are cut short, and the constant ringing of your phone. But what I despise most of all is that look in your eyes when you’re staring at me; the vague expression you have when our gazes meet. Now I see that there’s no flame, no burning passion, no need. Your mind is traveling elsewhere and work matters make your look become unfocused.

But you already know how I feel. I’ve told you time and time before yet your behavior never changes – because I’m me. I’m your safety pillow; always there to catch you, comfort you, take care of you. A presence is taken for granted that has nowhere else to go and so she clings to you, desperate for a fragment of your time.

All that until now.

I’m not okay with being your second choice anymore.
I’m not okay with being a back-up plan.

So tonight, this empty theatre is my comfort instead of your arms. I’m cold and shivering and out of cigarettes but I don’t care; I’m myself again. Tonight I won’t call you. Tonight, I’m making me a priority.

You can spend your precious time doing whatever is on top of your list at the moment. Spend time with your girlfriend, your family, your friends. Finish your workload or watch your favorite team play; I don’t give a fuck anymore.

The red velvet seats are empty. The crowd left a long time ago but I was just too blinded by the stage lights. It’s time for the final curtain to fall.

I’m done being second.

It’s time for me to go to another play and this time I will definitely land the starring role.