Part Six
Today it’s been two years.
Ho cambiato città. Sono andata a vivere a Portland. Ho un nuovo lavoro. Una nuova casa. Una nuova vita.
Non ho un nuovo compagno. Non cerco. Devo imparare a stare da sola. Devo imparare a non aver bisogno di qualcuno che mi dica “ti amo” per sentirmi amata.
Sometimes at night, I think of Mark. How it made me feel invisible. How he canceled me. How he turned me off.
He wasn’t bad. He was just absent. He was just present elsewhere. With another woman. With another life. With another love.
And I was there. In the middle. To act as an upholstery. To be a filler. To make second choice.
Non lo sarò mai più.
I’ll never let anyone feel invisible again.
I will never let anyone choose me as a fallback again.
I deserve to be the first choice.
I deserve to be loved.
I deserve to be seen.
Part Seventh
Some time ago, I got a message.
It was Elena’s.
“Sorry. I didn’t know Mark was married. He told me he was single. He told me he didn’t have anyone. I only found out the truth later. I’m sorry about what he did to you. I’m sorry about what we did. I can’t feel it anymore. I’m done with him. I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re happy. You deserve it.”
I didn’t respond. It didn’t help.
Elena had nothing to do with it. It was just the other side of the same coin. She had been used too. She was deceived, too. She was also a second choice.
The only real culprit was Mark. The man who had two women. Who had loved one. That he had used the other. That he didn’t have the courage to choose. He preferred the lie to the truth. Comfort to love.
I don’t hate it. Not anymore. Hate consumes. Hate destroys. Hate makes you like them.
Instead, I chose indifference. Indifference is worse than hatred. Because hate is still a form of attention. Indifference is forgetting that they exist.
And I forgot Mark. Like him, he forgot me for eight years.
Now I’m the one who doesn’t see it. The one who doesn’t look for him. The one who doesn’t think that.
Justice. Late. Imperfect. But justice.
Conclusion
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from this story, it’s this: don’t settle.
Don’t settle for half-hearted love. Don’t settle for crumbs. Don’t settle for “me too.” Don’t settle for silence. Don’t settle for absences.
If someone loves you, you see. You feel it. You touch it. You don’t have to ask yourself. You don’t have to chase him. You don’t have to beg him.
True love is present. True love is visible. True love does not make you feel invisible.
If you feel invisible, it’s not love. It’s habit. It’s comfort. It’s fear. It’s anything but love.
You deserve love. The real one. The one looking for you. The one who looks at you. The one that touches you. What he says “I love you” before you say it. The one who takes you by the hand in public. The one that surprises you with a gift. The one who listens to you when you talk. What he sees you.
Don’t settle for less.
Because life is too short to be someone’s second choice.
And too precious to waste it with those who can’t see you.
I learned. Late. But I learned.
And now, finally, I see myself.
Alone. In front of the mirror. With my own eyes. With my heart. With my life.
And for the first time in eight years, I don’t feel invisible.
I feel alive.
And that’s okay.
Better than good. Perfect.
