I wonder if she is okay with all your crazy needs. She seems far too delicate, too innocent to be dealing with someone as fucked up as you. I almost feel like she needs a warning before you break her in half... if not physically then definitely mentally. Nobody escapes you unscathed.
Because for now, he's everything you could ever want. 3rd year of college, headed off to med school sooner rather than later. Hockey player. Fraternity man. Gentleman. Caring and funny. These things help you ignore all of the times he's ever lashed out at you for no reason, all the times he persisted even though you told him to stop because you weren't in the mood, all the times he's cat-called other women in front of you. And these nuisances are just small nudges in the back of your mind as you tell your friends and family that he's the best thing that's ever happened to you and that you are so lucky to have landed someone like him.
Your mother never liked him. She could see right through his charm and his strong handshake. She told you to run away and never look back, but you didn't listen because you had found your Prince Charming and nothing else could hold you back.
On a cold December night, you discovered it was all for the sex. You cried. He didn't give a damn.
One week later, you text him desperately at 2 am asking why. Why did you hurt me so? He tells you he is sorry but he does not mean it.
Two weeks later is your shared favorite holiday. You text him to say Merry Christmas and he does not reply.
One month later, you drink too much wine and text him again. He does not reply.
Two months later, your friends are convinced you've forgotten him for good.
Three months later, you've convinced yourself.
Four months later, you discover he has a new girlfriend. You leave the party in tears and nobody comes to rescue you. Nobody finds out that you dragged the blade across your skin again, because you've learned since your freshman year of high school, and now you know how to hide the scars.
Four months and one night later you find yourself entangled in the sheets of another man, trying desperately to numb the dull ache in the bottom of your chest and finding no solace because this stranger will never be as good as he was. You hope that this stranger will not notice the wounds on your hip, and then you realize that he would not give a damn, regardless.
Four months and two weeks later, it is midnight and you hold your knees and rock back and forth on the floor of your secret hiding spot. You cry. You half-hope nobody finds you like this.
Five months later you catch a glimmer of hope in the form of a new boy, but you know from the start that this will never work because you are still far too bruised and beaten for anyone to even start to understand.
Five months and one week and three days later, new boy tells you that he understands how you feel and he strokes your hair without you even having to ask. You snuggle into new boy's arms and shut your eyes tight, trying to block out the demons and him.
Six months later, new boy is long gone. New boy was never meant to deal with someone as fucked up as I. I still miss him. I still miss him terribly.
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