It was a relationship of convenience and of circumstance. We were both single – I was desperate to be wanted, your motives were a little more ambiguous. But you were my first everything, and as you left, you took a part of me with you, a part of me I may never reclaim.

There was nothing in common between us – our dreams, our values, our personal expectations – yet we made it work for nine months. Nine months of the most important year of our lives so far were devoted to sustaining something that we never had. Thank goodness it didn’t matter in the end – or else I may have never forgiven you.

You made me feel weak, unworthy, unwanted, but I can back for more. You said that you never meant to hurt me, and that may be true – you never understood me or my life. I am ashamed of the things I did to please you, but at the time I thought it was perfectly normal. You’ve changed the way I view relationships – I’m afraid, overly cautious, unable to trust fully.

Perhaps what hurts the most was the ease with which you looked me in the eye and told me I wasn’t good enough for you. You didn’t need my name or my body anymore, so you choose one of my flaws and manipulated it to your advantage as an excuse to flee.

I don’t love you, and I don’t think I ever did, but I’m tied to you. It’s nearly a year since you convinced me with that one line. And while I should be saying good riddance, I’d do a lot to go back to that moment.