The choice.

Despite the fact that I am not their choice, I am still there… Waiting in the wings as an option. I am not his first choice, I am not their first selection. I am but an option, knowing this fully well, I still await for crumbs of their love, their faith, their trust. It breaks my heart every time but I still wait.

 

I know that someone out there thinks I am the best, their only choice, the only one. But I still wait for crumbs of affection, I beg for it. I still exist on leftovers. I hope I wake up from this nightmare soon, but until then I can only wait.

 

Wait and endlessly hope that wishing wells and shooting stars will grant me my dream. That I’ll wake up from this nightmare and I’ll be the first, the only, the best.

 

Finally…

 

I will be the choice.