Written by Norma Ndove
I’m sorry I never believed you when you said I was too good for you. I thought you were those modest, “I don’t deserve a good thing,” kind of guys. I was ready to slay the dragons of the past lies your exes had made you accept. I wanted to love away the insecurities and fears you carried. I wanted to show you that you deserve a good, wholesome and deep love. I was ready to fight the demons on your behalf and suffer it all, so I could prove them wrong. But I’m sorry; you were right. I was, and still am, too good of a woman for you.
I’m sorry I lied to you and made you believe we had a chance at forever after. We stood a snowball’s chance in hell. There was no way we would ever work because you had so little to give. Not financially, of course, the bank cards you flashed around were proof of your success, as were the cars and things you owned. You worked hard for it all; that’s a fact. But emotionally, your balance was at $0.00. You don’t understand the simplicities of affection; you want to take and take and take and never give. You have this infinite belief you are owed love and will go to great lengths to get it. The day I locked myself in the bathroom to get you to understand that a no is a no is the day I knew we were doomed. That is the day I should have walked away. But I took a risk, and honestly, the snowball lasted longer than I anticipated.
I’m sorry, but you and I should never have been. I’m sorry, but when we met, I had a selfish thought that blossomed when you refused to take no for an answer. Your persistence was admirable, and you made me feel needed and wanted. You see, you are the rebound guy, the one that got me over the last guy. You met me at my “hell hath no fury” stage, and even when I said no, you told me you knew we had to be. So, I took your calls, I went to dinner, I received the flowers and gifts, and I healed. I became immune to the anger and pain of the past, because you were the distraction.
I’m sorry, but this script was warped from the beginning. I’m sorry I said I loved you, because the truth is, I didn’t. I wanted to possess you and own you and show you off like a trophy. I wanted to have you as my safety blanket against the past that would wreak havoc in my empty heart. I often wondered, ‘If someone else came along, would I not leave?’ I realized that I cared about you, was concerned about you, but never loved you. I found reasons to solidify the moments I would lose my temper. I didn’t care if I hurt you, and it became our thing, hurting each other. But somehow still drawn to being together. This was the reality, the disillusion, we were picture perfect. I should have left sooner. I should have told you the day you said you loved me. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can or ever will love you.
You know you and I work better as friends. You learn from me and I from you. We are comfortable in each other’s presence. We could probably sit naked and drink wine and watch TV and be normal. I look at you now as you kneel before me. Telling me we can try again, telling me it’s my stubbornness you love. Telling me no other woman could be what I was and am to you. Telling me of the world we could build. Telling me that, in the quiet spaces, you realize you need me: a woman that challenges you, a woman that demands of you, a woman that consoles you. A woman that grows with you, a woman that is open to your spontaneous side. A woman not fazed by your money, cars, or wealth. A woman that could build an empire with you. You tell me I am that woman.
I’m sorry, but I can’t let myself say yes and let it be the start of a life we will both regret. I’m sorry the rebound run became more. I’m sorry I made you believe I loved you. I’m sorry, but no, I won’t accept what you are offering. I’m sorry I took this long to say this. I’m sorry I don’t miss you as I should. I’m sorry I don’t feel rage at the thought of you lying with another woman. I’m sorry I’m not sorry about not being the woman for you.
Kwapi Vengesayi is an Amazon bestselling author whose books explore captivating musings and thought-provoking conversations about love, relationships, life and our human experience. You can find his book on Amazon. You can also follow him on Twitter @kwapiv or subscribe to his blog at kwapiv.com