Queen B.

If I'm sinking will you save me?

Will you look at me and smirk?

Will you catch me if I fall?

Will my own doubt prove true?

Will you watch me drown as you float by, above my head, without another thought for me in yours?

Right now I'm scrolling through dialog and realizing that if you really wanted something with me, you would already be here. You would have been there waiting.

I deserve John Cusack holding a boom box outside my window. I deserve Jake from Sixteen Candles waiting outside the church, and I want to ride off on a lawnmower with Patrick Dempsey. I deserve Judd Nelson walking across that field thrusting his fist in the air, because he knows that he got me. 

So what if I stole that from 'Easy A'. That doesn't make it any less true. 

I want that. 

And dammit, I deserve it. 

I want to fall for someone who wants to fall for me. Who wants me.

Someone that wants to want me. Someone that wants to pursue me. Someone that wants me for who I am. Someone that makes me feel like a Princess, prized and special.

But for right now, I sit here knowing that this is bad. More than bad, but I'll just ignore the severity of the situation and stare at your mug, 'cause darlin', you're a dime piece. 

This is bad. You're bad for me. I know that you don't really want me. If you did, you'd be here. But then again, maybe I'm to blame. Maybe this whole situation is my fault. Maybe I'm awkward and maybe I don't give enough, and maybe you don't even know. How could you not know? You're foolish, but you aren't stupid. I know that you don't really want this, and I know that you are a dead weight that I can't shake, but it's that sliver of hope that keeps me going. That sliver of hope that keeps me going makes me sad. Not because it is nothing more than a sliver with extremely slim potential, but because that's what I've allowed you to turn me into. 

A pathetic, pining, princess. 

That isn't who I am. 

Darlin', I'm a Queen.

I'm strong and independent.

I don't know how you've managed to strip me of that, but you have. 

Ultimately... that is why I am sad. 

I've allowed you to strip the exact thing that makes me ME.

Babe, I don't like what you've done, but you give me one minute of your precious time and I'm putty in your hands. 

I don't like who I am with you, 

or because of you,

but now I know, 

and that's the hardest truth.

XX Queen B.