They never know the right words to say. They fumble around for the right words to tell you that you’re just not good enough. That’s how you feel about it, anyway. But you’re wrong.
You’re more than good enough. It is they who will always be unworthy, and they know this. They distract you as long as they can from this fact, because it suits them well to fill you with pretty lies that will keep their bed warm.
And you, a hopeless romantic, believe the lies; though indubitably false, lies provide comfort and temporarily suspend you in serenity. You go along with them, you build your whole life around them, trying to will your love dreams into existence.
Like any dream, eventually you wake up. You are cold and alone, empty besides the heavy weight of fear burdening your chest. You feel paralyzed by the thought of what could’ve been, and you consider laying there forever, like Sleeping Beauty.
There is no charming prince that will come to save you, my dear. You must save your self. You’ll thank you later. And it’ll be the best thanks you ever did receive.