I never thought I’d say that name again. I never thought i’d be writing to you again. Remember when you went off to bootcamp, not once but twice? And we had to write letters to each other. First time was for only three months, the second time was for six months. Yeah, I remember that time vividly because those times were the only times I was able to breathe.
You were 17 when I met you. I was turning 13, what made you think it was okay to date me? Honestly? Of course back then, I had no problem falling head over heels for you - and jumping to answer you when you asked if I’d be your girlfriend. But being 18 now, I can only look back on that time and ask myself, “What the fuck?” Not only was it completely awkward, it was more along the lines of disgusting. I was a little girl, even if then I screamed at the top of my lungs that I wasn’t. I was! And you took complete advantage of that. When I was 13 I should have been experiencing life, getting my heart broken by a few idiotic boys and screaming into my pillow that my life was over. I should have been going out with friends, dancing at 3 in the morning when we were drunk off soda or some shit. I should have been finding myself, not conforming myself into someone you wanted me to be. I used to apologize for wanting to be more like myself, now I’m searching for an apology from you.
Our first few months together was beautiful… As beautiful as a 13 year old can imagine. You told me EVERYTHING I wanted to hear. Right down to, “You’re beautiful.” But that only came after you got what you wanted, didn’t it? You brought me followers, picked me up from school - took me on “dates,” the whole nine fucking yards, didn’t ya? You scurried your way into my mind, made me close my eyes and before I knew it, you made yourself a nice home inside the dark parts of my mind. You knew what I battled with every day, you knew what went on inside my home behind closed doors. You knew and you used that to your advantage, again - I would apologize for this, but now i’m searching for your apology?
Like I said before, our first few months were great - I’ll give you that. But it was only because you were so good at keeping up a facade. But your true self slowly started to break through and I should have ran, but I was 13 and had no idea what this all meant. But god, do I wish someone could have pulled me aside and told me to RUN. Guys would hit me up, look my way or speak to me on the street and suddenly you were doing a 180 on me and making me out to be a slut. For a guy wanting to talk to me, even though I never looked there way. You would chase cars down, screaming vulgarities at them, searching for a fight - only because they glanced out their window and our eyes meant in a passing. Warning sign number 1. I remember when my best friend got a boyfriend and she was dying for me to met him, we went to a park and you called me. We were just texting previously and you were fine with it, until I told you i was with her boyfriend as well. I answered the phone, “Why are you calling? Everything okay?” You hung up on me and FREAKED out because I answered the phone asking why you were calling around a guy. I must have been cheating, right? Warning sign number 2. I couldn’t leave the house with my phone on less than 50% charged because god forbid my phone would die. I used to have panic attacks while I was out and my phone started to die, because I knew it was coming. I knew the accusations were coming. I knew the voicemails would pour in, right along with the numerous texts. If my phone died, it meant I was cheating - even if i only went to a grocery store with my mother. I was definitely screwing some random guy in the public bathroom because my phone died. Warning sign number 3.
I could list warning signs, all day - for hours. I could probably write a novel on all the warning signs I should have picked up from you, but i’ll stop here. Because 3 warning signs, that’s enough right? That’s enough to make any normal, brain developed, girl - run straight for the door… Right? I hope. I hope because I wish I did and i hope any girl you deal with now, runs for the door because I don’t believe you will change. Because I dealt with you for three years. The lies, the cheating, the accusations, the controlling, the mental abuse, the physical abuse and lastly, the sexual abuse. I dealt with it all and maybe you have changed. Maybe I was used as your punching bag and your way of developing. Either way, it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that I was used as your way of letting anger out. It isn’t fair that another girl gets to be treated like fucking royalty when I was treated like a god damn punching bag.
Anyways, I wanted to thank you. Not a sincere thank you but a big FUCK YOU! thank you. Because, because of you - I can no longer accept love. Because when I walk into a room full of males, i immediately have a panic attack and I can no longer breathe, because maybe their eyes have fallen to my legs, thighs, or my chest. Either way, their eyes are on me and it reminds me of you, and my stomach wrenches together and i forget to breathe, and suddenly i’m outside or locked in a bathroom stall - throwing up. And half the time, I imagine i’m throwing up your words. Because of you, i am a walking mess. I suffer from PTSD because of you - all of those words, hits, and lies, pushed me to my limit and every time i see another guy, I think of you. I believe no guy is a good guy, I believe they all have an amazing facade like you did. I believe they’ll all turn around and end up being just like YOU!
Because of you, I have ruined every relationship i’ve been in. Even if they weren’t great - most of the time, i’ve ruined it anyways. What’s worse is when I find someone amazing and can’t even accept him into my life because I expect the worst. I expect him to turn out to be you, i expect his sweet words to turn into knives piercing my heart. I expect his hands to wrap around my throat and shove me into the wall. I imagine him ripping out my heart and stomping on it because i’m no good for love, because you made me feel like I would always be WORTHLESS!
This is my last ‘because of you,’ and I want you to take this to your heart. I want this to glue itself to your brain and you can never get rid of it. When you close your eyes, I want you to see my face and all of the bruises you left - I want you to see the flowers poured on my bed and the chocolates stacked high on my nightstand. I want you to see my bloody lip, the holes in my wall, me screaming “NO!” as you forced yourself into my anyways.
Because of you, I can no longer sleep. Once every month on the 13th, I have a nightmare. I see your face, I hear your voice. I see the walls close in around me, I begin to sweat and I hear it, “I love you,” And I panic, i try to run for the door and you pull me in. Your hand turns into a beast and it tears at my face - it tears at my body and you’re screaming, “YOU HAVE TO HAVE SEX WITH ME BECAUSE YOU’RE MY GIRLFRIEND!” and i’m begging you, i’m pleading with you, i’m telling you no. But you don’t care, you make me anyways because like you said, I was your girlfriend. I was only 13. I was supposed to have sex with you every fucking day because if not? I was fat. I was ugly. I was worthless. I would never find love. I would never find anyone to accept me for who I was. And after your vulgar sayings, you were on top of me. And you were fucking me, and I was just lying there. Not looking at you. my head turned, my lips pursed shut. And if you were in a particular bad mood, I would have to force my moans because if not - you would get rough and I would have another bruise to make up an excuse for.
So thank you Andrew James Marshall, because you took a young girl and you corrupted her. You made me believe I would never be good enough for anybody. You took my self esteem and you threw it away. You took my heart and made sure I would never be able to trust another male again. You made sure that when a man told me he loved me, I would be prepared to lie down in bed - naked and ready for him to have his way with me. because that’s all I was good for. That’s all i’d be good for, right?
I wish I could tell everyone my first love was sweet. Romantic. Something that walked straight out of one of my favorite romance movies. but it wasn’t. It scarred me for the rest of my life and i will always be recovering from this for my entire life. I just hope you all take the warning signs and run for the hills before it’s too late.
My first love left me with bruises, my face - eyes, lips, cheeks, thighs and arms. It wasn’t only with his fits but his mouth and words too. Now tell me, how am i ever supposed to love again?