Dear Abusive Asshole:
in the past two years I’ve irrationally hated you, blocked you from social media, bad mouthed you to my friends, dodged your calls. I’ve managed to cry through the panic attacks and not fear the men who look exactly like you. I’ve even lightly waded into a couple new relationships. But I’m still fucked up. I’m still neurotic, I’m still in your words “crazy”. Except now I’m afraid of it, afraid that my anxiety and my hardships and the added hardships you put me through will never make me a viable girlfriend in a relationship. I broke up with two perfectly good people who had feelings for me. I kept my feelings down for a person who I ACTUALLY have feelings for and dated the wrong people just because I was afraid that he’d hurt me or I’d hurt him or worse he’d leave me on a constant loop of “is he just using me”. Well I finally told him, and he didn’t make me feel like flawed garbage for once. So MAYBE just maybe it wasn’t me. Maybe it was you.