You came into my life and I was a beautiful piece of yarn that you proceeded to tangle up to the point where it can never be unraveled completely again. You said you loved me just the way I was, and I believed you because I trusted you. I shared things with you I’ve never shared with another, and you said you understood me. You held me. You let me cry. You made me smile. You made me happy. Until you started using all the things I had said and all the needs and wants you saw in me were fodder for your manipulation. I told you my fears, and you became the ghost. I told you my needs and you stopped fulfilling them. I showed you my vulnerabilities and you stomped on them. And I didn’t fight back because I was too busy trying to understand what was happening and apologizing for being who I am.
You cheated on me. You left me to have sex with an ex you said you despised. That you said hurt you. That you said you would never see again. Then you came back to me and I took you in. You didn’t apologize. You didn’t show remorse. You got angry when I talked about it and you made me feel there was a lacking in me that forced you to go to someone else. You made me feel less of a woman. My confidence bottomed out. But people deserve second chances, so I gave you one. And then, you did it again. I took you back again and I don’t know why. All I know is I had begun to feel like a nothing. Do you know what it feels like to be a nothing? Later, I found out I have HPV and that I had gotten it from you. You acted shocked when I told you. But you act so very well. And when I told you my doctor was concerned about it since it can cause cervical cancer, you said nothing. Nothing at all. Do you know how incredibly shameful it was to sit in a doctor’s office and be told that you have an STI? Something I have never had before in my entire life? My humiliation was enormous and even writing these words makes me feel dirty. Makes me feel like dirt. Like trash.
All I was to you was a body that gave you the supply of whatever it was you desired. And you’d get bored with the things I bought. You’d get bored with the activities I planned. You’d get bored with me. So, I always had to give more and more and more and I was still willing to give even after you exhausted me. I gave you so many things it’s going to take me years to get out of debt. Years.
You are a cult leader…like a Jim Jones. And at first, the kool-aid quenched a thirst in me. But Jones was a narcissist and sociopath. Just like you. And that kool-aid stopped quenching my thirst, and started me feeling as if a poison had invaded my system. A poison I had no idea how to eradicate. A poison that ate me up from the inside out. You’re sick. You spread your toxins to me. Now, I’m battling sickness. Your toxins have depressed me. They have made me anxious. Made me scared. Made me question everything. Made me wonder if I’ll ever be able to trust again. And have made me wonder if I’ll ever allow myself to be with another man again.
How could you do all of this? Why me? Was I just an easy target? Was I just a prize at first…since I was older, more educated, more involved in the community? Was I just a mark? A conquest? Was I ever anything at all to you? Did you ever, just once, look at me and feel something other than contempt? Did you ever, for even just a moment, feel love for me? Do you have a heart? Do you have a soul? What’s inside of you? Nothing? And is that why you took so much from me? To fill up that void, and then cursing me because I couldn’t? Ever?
I made one last attempt to reach you yesterday. Stupidly thinking that all of this could change. You could learn to love. Learn to truly be the person you presented at the beginning. So, I poured out my heart. Showed you my soul. Admitted to my longings for you. And hours later, after I asked if you had read my message, you said no…you just hadn’t had the time. I don’t know why that’s become the last straw for me. It seems so insignificant next to everything else you have done. It’s just one more unanswered message. But, it’s one more time of me feeling like nothing…as if my words don’t even deserve to be read. And, I simply can’t feel like a nothing anymore.
It made me realize something. I don’t love you. I don’t even like you. And I have no respect for you whatsoever as a human being. I don’t want you. Because I want myself more.
Saying goodbye to anyone is hard. But not saying goodbye to you would be the death of my soul.
My sweet readers: last night, I started doodling, having no idea what I wanted to draw. And what you read poured out of me. And it felt really good. Here’s the drawing: