“I needed you like I needed a cigarette. Like tar to my lungs, you poisoned my life. I was only 17 and thought “this is what love is.” It was more like drowning. The bruises you left on my body were nothing compared to the bruises left on my mind and soul. On my 18th birthday, a day for me, my mind was consumed with you. What you wanted, how you felt, what you thought of me. I only needed your approval. Literally and metaphorically. I made excuses for all your “mistakes”, even though mine weren’t forgivable. Even when you cheated, it was my fault. Everything was my fault. I didn’t make you feel loved because I wanted to spend time with my friends instead of you. I was a bitch, I was fat, I was ugly. I had to stop wearing short sleeves. I had to cut ties with everyone I knew because I was either fucking them, or you didn’t like them. You built me up only to tear me down. I was dumb. I was immature. I was weak. If I wanted to go somewhere, do something, you had to get something in return. You felt entitled to my body because we were dating, you werent. When I’d finally had enough, when I finally stood up for myself, you covered my arms in bruises. Locked me out. Even though you were entirely in the wrong, I blamed myself. For everything. I should have done this, said that, stopped doing what I wanted and done everything for you. Now here we are, 8 months later and I finally feel okay again. I can breathe again. I cut my hair, I dyed it the color you told me you hated, I have friends. I go out and don’t have to worry about what you’ll say or what you’ll do when I got home. I am free. I am beautiful, I am loved. Most importantly, I know that I don’t need you. I didn’t do anything, it was you, it was you all along.”
