You hurt me more than you will ever know.
With my old name, I am a victim.
It’s not up to you, my family, or my friends to tell me how to heal – and I am saying this without the smallest trace of malice or passive-aggressiveness.
Trigger warning: sexual assault It feels sort of funny to write this, because I know it’s going to be so personal, yet I don’t even know your name. You don’t know mine either.
I will never know if any of it was real or if it was always some sick, twisted game you were playing.
If you are emotionally and spiritually exhausted, you are not alone. Rock bottom sucks. And the worst feeling is thinking that you’ve hit rock bottom, only to learn that you’ve barely scraped the surface of it.
I no longer miss you. I just miss the thought of you and what could have been.
He suffers in losing me. I suffer in losing him. Yet in my desire to take the high road, you go unpunished.
I am filled with resentment and anger.
He will remember you in the things he does and people he sees. He will miss you and it will hurt. He will remember how much you loved him and loathe himself for breaking your heart.