Betrayal is my foreplay

I don’t even remember when it started. That feeling of going along with things because it was just easier. Easier to nod, to agree, to say “sure” when my gut was saying “no.” It’s not like anyone ever noticed the difference. Or maybe they did, but they never said anything. So I convinced myself it didn’t matter.

But it does.

It matters when you’re lying in bed, replaying conversations in your head, wondering why you couldn’t just be honest. It matters when you keep swallowing your own needs because you’re too scared to disappoint someone else. You tell yourself it’s not a big deal. But it sits there, in the pit of your stomach, like a rock.

I’m not even sure who I’ve been doing this for half the time. People who don’t actually care? People who won’t stick around either way? It’s like I’ve been playing this role for so long, I forgot who I am when I’m not bending over backwards for everyone else.

I guess I’m just tired of it. Of all of it. Tired of showing up for everyone but me.

Maybe it’s not a big revelation. Maybe it’s just me, sitting here, realizing I’ve been betraying myself for way too long. And I don’t really know where to go from here, but something’s gotta change.