For D.
Would you believe, that before I met you, I knew everything about you. I knew what you looked like, I knew you were insecure. I knew you were jealous. I knew you were immature. I knew you would try to break me. I even knew your birthday. The date May 5th, stuck in my head for years before I met you and I never knew why. You were a dream and a nightmare all in one, because I made you that way. In my own mind, I imagined you and you appeared. You aren’t real, because I dreamed you up. You are only one piece of my mind now. The piece that occupies my most wonderful and most painful memories. You were never my friend in this world. You were never my soulmate. You were never my lover. You were the rotten decrepit remains of something that could have bloomed beautifully, if you tried. You chose instead to do and say every awful thing, to make me believe you were my world, and there was nothing if you were not here. You carefully chose your pins to prick me with so that I couldn’t leave. I would feel my heart beat like it was trying to tell me it was going to give out if I put it through much more of this. My shoulders would always hurt from stress. And you would try to kiss the pain away. And I would try to not let myself forget you are the one who did it in the first place. I would shake so bad when you would say horrible things to me. My whole body would freeze and and I would swear I could hear my bones clanking together. I would beg and apologize to you as if it were my day job. And you liked it that way. You cornered me and kept me there for a year of my life. One day, all I had to say to myself was the truth, and believe it, and just as soon as the madness began; I was free from it. I have seen truly bad people. I have seen evil. And I have also seen the beauty, and clarity, and hope of a life without your burden. Let me be free. I am not asking you, I am telling you. And you will listen.