But I Know I’m Only A Hostel Until There’s A House That You Like
I sometimes wonder, am I the kind of person who settles for less, or did I settle because it’s all you could offer? There are moments when I think I deserve someone who sees me fully, someone who can give me more — more than empty words or fleeting promises. But every time I choose you, I find myself realizing the reason I don’t chase after more: because they are not you.
There are times I long for the warmth of your arms, yet you offer me your jacket instead. And still, I accept it — because what else can I do but take whatever you’re willing to give? It’s terrifying how easily I convince myself that what you give is enough, even when I know I deserve more.
What if I made you pancakes? Would you skip breakfast, or would you only eat them when it’s convenient for you? I know pancakes are best with milk, so every time I make them, I’ll pour you a glass, hoping that when you sip, you’ll remember you’re just a milk teeth — a passing phase in my life. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll feel what this newborn love truly feels like, the kind that falls and gets bruised, but keeps hoping.
From the very start, I knew I was only a hostel — a temporary stop until you found something more permanent. I offered you space, but you never wanted to settle in. You made it clear I was never meant to be your home, just a place to stay. And still, I clung to the hope that one day, you’d realize.
I guess I’m a fool to keep holding on, when it’s so painfully clear you’ve chosen not to hold me in return.
So, I wonder: Am I a fool for settling for less, or am I just fooling myself into thinking you’re the one I’m meant to be with? Still, beneath it all, I sank deeper — like an Oreo falling into milk, unnoticed by the naked eye, slowly dissolving. I stayed there, hidden, hoping for something more, but as time passed, I realized no matter how much I give, no matter how much I settle for less than I deserve, I am nothing but a hostel to you.
And yet, I remain. Because even as I fade into the background of your life, I still hold onto the faintest thread of hope — that maybe, in some distant corner of your heart, you’ll find me. But I know, deep down, that this hope is all I have left. And when it finally fades, I will be left with nothing more than the echo of a love I gave too freely to someone who could never truly hold it.
