Broken

I hear that familiar bell on my phone and like Pavlov's dog I salivate. I feel broken and can't understand your interest. I'm like my 10th year birthday doll after she fell to the floor. Although I glued her back together and her crack was hardly noticeable I knew that she was broken and placed her on the back row of the shelf - she never got the attention she deserved and at no fault of her own. I broke her and neglected her. At 12 years old I never realized that this would somehow be foreshadowing of my later life. I also never realized that I would break so easily. Am I now unlovable?

It seems like just yesterday that he first told me that I wasn't right for him, that he was searching for perfection. it was then that it all came crashing down on me - the realization that I was not perfect was slammed into my face at the same force of an airbag deploying in a car accident. And yes, it left me with what felt like whiplash. Each morning thereafter I would wake up, look in the mirror and find one of those imperfections he spoke of. Two years of this same exercise and I now have a very long laundry list of what I think is wrong with me. I think about taking each item on the list and trying to fix one at a time, but that thought lasts only a minute. Instead I take the list, put it in the bag with my belongings and leave. I keep the list but never look at it again... Never turning back.

The bell on my phone rings again, I see the message and smile. Perfect for you, that's all I need to be.