Loving you was like walking on a tightrope over the Grand Canyon. I would teeter back and forth constantly, trying so hard to use every ounce of strength inside of me to stay upright. Loving you was like holding a burning match in my fingers. It burned bright, it lit me up, but every time I held on too long, it would hurt me. Loving you was like giving a child a new toy and breaking it in half in front of their face.
The first time you drained me my heart felt like an unplugged sink. Everything just fell through my body. I cried myself to sleep every single night for three weeks. I told myself over and over that it was my fault, I was the problem, I was not good enough, or worthy enough. I read and re-read our messages, refusing to believe that you hurt me and that you were gone.
And yes, you were right, you never “left.” Because every single day you crossed my mind. Everyday I asked myself why I deserved this. But then, one day, it went away. I met someone else, I fell in love with someone who cared for me and wanted nothing more than to give me the world.
But then, I went to college. My beautiful, healing relationship ended but it ended graciously. I did not cry night after night and have nightmares that woke me up each night. Living without you was the best, most easiest thing I had ever done. I loved myself, I loved my independence. I felt so weightless. But then, I saw your name pop up on my phone. I should have blocked you.
Then, I saw you. I saw you and I thought, how? How was I ever attracted to you? You are nothing special. You hurt me, you cut me open and poured salt into my wound. You buried me alive in your bullshit and empty promises. I wanted to tell you I loved you, but I didn’t.
The flame inside of my had never died, it was just concealed in the deepest and darkest parts of my body. I told you I loved you and you kissed me. We had sex for the first time, two years after you ruined me. You said you were sorry, that you would try harder. And we talked and talked and kept seeing each other and I started to fall again, faster and faster into the void of your web of bullshit. I got caught among the spiders, latching onto me, clinging to my hair the more I kissed you, the more I wanted us.
But then, the cycle started again. You broke the toy in front of me, you burned me, you told me to stop, “Stop.” “Chill the fuck out.” “You’re so dramatic. “Chill out. “ “Working.” “Stop” over and over and over and over. I saw a counselor, I cried to you on the phone, I was scared, I was anxious. I hadn’t slept a full night since we started talking again. I had started having nightmares since we started talking again. My body was trying to tell me to leave and get away before you ghosted. Because again, you just stopped. Everything. It just stopped. No communication, all bullshit. And because of you and your sick and twisted fucked up toxicity you poured into my life I lost myself.
But then, it stopped. The pain. The weight you had on me. I deleted EVERYTHING.
I imagined cutting you from me, I imagined pushing you off of the canyon I balanced over. I imagined shutting a door on you. You were toxic. You destroyed me. You drained me. You made me lose sleep, peace of mind, self-love, my sense of self-worth, my passion, and my love for life. But then, when you left again, I felt fine. I felt a stillness, a peaceful stillness I had not felt in those three months we were talking again. I was confident, happy, weightless, free. I was awake from the nightmare that was you.