I want someone to tell me that I am beautiful.
I want someone to hold me tightly,
And tell me that everything will be okay.
I want them to tell me that I’m strong,
That I will get through this someday.
I do not want to hear about how he’s nice;
No one can convince me now that he is.
A nice person would not have done what he did.
I don’t want to hear people say that they feel sorry for
him,
How his Vietnam Vet of a dad wants him to become a soldier,
Not an actor.
I don’t want to hear about how hard it’s for him,
How his parents don’t support his dreams.
I don’t want to hear about his dyslexia,
How he’s mastered it and gets straight A’s.
And I don’t want to hear about the role he got in some
independent film.
I am not seeing his movie,
And I don’t want him to be famous.
I don’t want to see his face plastered everywhere.
I don’t want to be reminded of him wherever I go.
I want to be able to escape his presence.
I want to hide,
I want to run.
I don’t want people to talk about how he’s matured.
I want people to say that his maturity has a long way to
go.
I don’t want to hear people say that he’s hot.
I don’t want the words “sexy” and “irresistible”
to appear next to his name;
I don’t want people to gossip about his recent sexual
escapades,
Right in front of me, 
As if I do not care.
I don’t want to hear people say that I was unassertive
Or that I didn’t express my opinions.
I was as assertive as I needed to be,
And I was the one who was always digging for his opinions.
I gave mine.
I don’t want to hear people say that it happens to
everyone.
It makes me feel like my tears were for nothing.
It makes me feel like I’m not special,
That I’m not unique.
I don’t want people to say he liked me,
That what he felt for me was real.
I don’t want people to say that he cared for me so much
that he didn’t want to hurt me,
Because that’s just what he did.
I don’t want people to think that I should be over him by
now.
It’s not like they were in the relationship themselves.
I don’t want people to try to make me feel better by
saying he must be gay.
I know that he likes girls just by the way he looks at
them.
I just want someone that loves me back.
I want someone that’s loyal,
Someone who won’t let me down.
I want someone that I can talk to,
I want someone that I can trust,
I want someone who’s not so messed up.
I want to hear him say he’s sorry.
I want him to say that he’s a jackass,
And that he’s made the biggest mistake of his life.
Then I want him to grab my chin and kiss me, 
Kiss me softly on my lips,
And beg; plead for me to come back to him.
Then I’m going to turn him down,
And that’s when I’ll be reunited with my dignity.
When that happens I won’t have to have people tell me that
I’m beautiful,
Or that I am 
Smart,
Amazing,
Or strong,
Because I will know I am all of those things without having
to be told.
I will feel beautiful,
I will feel smart,
I will feel amazing and strong,
But I won’t be cocky 
I will just be happy and confident. 
I will be the person that I used to be,
The person that I was before this all happened.
I want to write a poem about everything that I have been
feeling,
Everything that I’ve felt these past few months.
I want to write a poem about how people should comfort me,
And how they shouldn’t.
I want to write a poem about everything I’ve locked
inside,
And everything I haven’t said.
This isn’t a poem about melancholy.
This isn’t a poem about remorse.
This definitely isn’t a poem about a love that’s lost.
This isn’t a poem about jealousy or anger.
This isn’t a poem about insecurity.
This isn’t a poem about a boy.
This is a poem about friendship.
This is a poem about desire.
This is a poem about hope, wishes, and longing.
This is a poem about a dream.
This is a poem about a girl.
This is a poem about me.

©Copyright R. McCarthy