The fluctuation of our relationship was more tumultuous than the first spacecraft to ever land on the moon. Due to a mutual fear of being lonely, we became fast friends. Your world enveloped mine. Before I knew it, I was living, breathing, thinking you every microsecond of my meagre existence. How it started was nothing like it ended. I thought ours was a star-crossed romance. Boy, have I never been more wrong.
When we first met, you didn’t have many friends. At least, it didn’t appear that way from the outside looking in. I saw you, by yourself, and thought immediately that I didn’t have to be alone anymore. So I brushed off the alarm bells, the red flags, and enjoyed the casual laughter of acquaintances at school. You were quirky, not crazy, and I understood that because I was the same. Others didn’t see it because others didn’t know what I knew. The allure was textbook: You were broken and I wanted to fix you. That’s probably what it ultimately comes down to. I wanted to pick up your tattered jigsaw pieces and put together a whole new puzzle. One of us. Together. But I didn’t challenge you, I emulated you. Too fearful that you would leave. So you ended up changing me.
And we played our games of pretend together. The cat and mouse chase that became something far more revoltingly sinister than I would realise. Obsession. Lust. Greed. I said no. No no no. But you weren’t used to hearing that, I suppose. You chalked up my suspicions, my concerns, my hesitance as something to joke about the next day. After I saw you. Lurking behind me. A shadow. A devil. A friend.
You weren’t always there, physically. But you peeled the layers of my brain and burrowed into the tissue, nestling in to call my head home. And you fucked with my head so many times, I was jarred from the reality of everyday school to this fantastical enticing of a dysfunctional toxic relationship. It’s funny. Relationship. That’s what we had, like it or not. We did everything couples did, essentially. Whether it was clandestine touches, passing secret notes, bickering. But when I fought back, be it with my words or my fists, something always came back to enforce your domain over me. Shackled to the guilt of breaking your trust, I let you break me. And now you want back in.
I will never be scared of you. You’ve left seeds of mistrust that continue to be fruitful but I will never give you the power to hurt me again. Not anymore. No matter the consequences. Giving into you was one of the worse decisions I have ever made but enough time has passed for me to wake up to what you emotionally, mentally and physically put me through and know that I deserve better. I have a voice that won’t be crushed by you, or any man, ever.