I didn’t want to be cuddled up and making out with someone who couldn’t play his part and stay home when it wasn’t absolutely necessary to be outside.
It has made it harder and more lonely but also more reflective and inward.
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.