Paper Plates

Why'd you ask me to come visit you if you were already seeing someone?

I asked you to be my girlfriend, right?

Yes?

You weren't ready. I have needs. Men have emotional needs to. I want to be with a life partner, and you weren't ready. I do not blame you. I messed things up, and you are not ready to forgive me. 

So much for a year of debt. (insert cynical laugh here)

An old man once told me that people and relationships are like paper plates. You get one, use it, and when it gets messy, you toss it to the side. 

So, I'm a paper plate? Disposable?

Take it how you want. There are other people in the world. Other plates to use.


I can't help but cry. Not because I want Steven, or because I am hurt that he doesn't want me. I already knew he didn't. 

I am hurt by his thinking. His theory.

Why am I so disposable? What about me makes me so easy to dismiss?