Two years ago, I heard a door slam so hard I swear it shook the whole house. A week before that, it was bottles breaking, and you grasped my wrist so hard that I thought you’d never let go. I could say in those moments I knew our relationship was over, but I would be lying. I spent numerous nights crying, praying you would come back. I had multiple panic attacks while I was getting used to sleeping without you, hoping it was all a dream and you would walk right back through my bedroom door and hold me like you used to.
I look back now and I know you were never what was best for me. You made me so happy at times, but that doesn’t outweigh the times you made me feel like I wasn’t enough and took all my self-worth away from me.
It took me two years to realize I deserve better. It wasn’t easy getting that clarity, because for so long I believed that I deserved the way you treated me. I thought every nasty text and ditched date was justified because I just wasn’t good enough for you. So, when your actions escalated I wasn’t surprised.
I owe the girl I used to be so many apologies. I should’ve believed in myself enough to know I deserved more out of a relationship. I should have never put up with the way you treated me especially for as long as I did. I deserve to be loved and supported, not ridiculed and bashed.
I thought I found myself again and finally felt a release out of the tight grasp you had on me for so long. I started believing in myself again and got my mind right and realized what I deserved and how I should be treated. I got clarity on all the damage you did to me. I was repairing myself from the inside out. I stayed single and found out who I was without someone telling me who to be. I coped with the trust issues you instilled in me. I did what was best for myself and my mental health.
But then you came back. I spent two years rebuilding every part of me that you broke and a simple one-word text made me question it all again. All you said was “babe,” and yet I felt every emotion possible in my body within seconds. I was happy to hear from you, but I was still so angry at you. Mad at myself for feeling joy when I saw the text and wanting to cry because I worked so hard to not love you anymore.
I will never understand why you sent that text. Did it finally hit you how much you missed me? Was it just to see if you would get a reply? Did you want to make things right? Were you actually sorry this time? Did you expect me to come crawling back to you?
I sat there for hours, debating replying to you as all our memories ran through my mind. All the times I had a bad day and you showed up at my house with my favorite things and cuddled me all night. The days we sat on the porch, just us drinking beer and laughing until we spit the beer out. The nights I woke up in the middle of the night and looked at you sleeping next to me so peacefully.
In those moments, I debated replying to you. I even debated giving you another chance. But then I remembered all the times you told me I wasn’t good enough for you. All the nights you went out had fun while I was supposed to stay home and keep to myself. All the tears shed and panic attacks I’ve had because of you. Those months I didn’t eat or sleep. The friends I lost all the times we got back together. All the things broken when you got angry.
I used to stare at my phone waiting to hear from you, hoping you cared enough to come running back to me. But this time was different. This time I didn’t want you back. I spent enough time loving you while you broke me. I am done being broken; I am done hating the girl our relationship made me into.
I didn’t reply, because the girl you texted wasn’t the same girl you dated two years ago. I healed every wound that you made, and I’m not about to let it happen again.
I’m done being your rag doll.