I'm not one of those girls that will fight for a man. I'm not one of those girls that wants to be in a competition with another girl for a boy. I never have been and I never will be. In fact, I don't even understand those girls. What it all comes down to is that if you're not going to choose me right away, and if you have to think about it, and if it comes down to a decision between me and someone else... don't choose me.

One of the worst feelings in the world is feeling like a second option. It gives off the illusion that you're not good enough to come first, or not good enough at all. Essentially that's exactly what it means, to be honest. And I don't deserve that. I don't deserve to be someone's "decision." I deserve to be someone's priority. I deserve to be someone's one and only. I deserve to be someone's world, and receive as much love as I give to them. If you can't do that, then just don't choose me.

We met at the wrong time, I really believe that. Because maybe if the leaves weren’t cascading off the trees and the sun didn’t hide away so early then things would have been different. But that's just not the way things went, although I wish they did. It was just a sign, I guess, that this wasn't meant to be for now. Maybe one day, just not today. So until that happens, don't choose me.

Do I love you? Of course. Do I want to be with you? More than anything. Can you say the same about me? Probably not. And I can't force you to feel that way. It shouldn't even be a second thought to you. If asked to choose, the answer should just come naturally. You shouldn't need time to think about it. And if you do, do us both a favor and don't choose me.

The messed up truth is that everything happens for a reason. We sometimes make the wrong decisions and we’re forced to live with them for the rest of our lives. And I know that I should live with mine. And you need to live with yours, so don't choose me.

For every lie that you’ve ever whispered, every time you kissed her instead of me, every phone call you’ve declined, and every cigarette you pressed to your lips, I cared about you. In your darkest hours, in spite of your ugliest thoughts, and regardless of every night I lay in bed shattered to my spine, I cared about you. I loved you in ways that you didn’t deserve. I hope some day you realize that I could've been the love of your life, and that you hate yourself for not loving me enough even more than I hate myself for loving you too much. And I'll never lose that feeling that I just wasn't good enough. Because you didn't choose me.