I woke up this morning thinking about the way you treated me and others. I didn’t deserve that, not as a friend, and certainly not as someone you claimed to have “feelings” for.
In the middle of those thoughts, I remembered last year how you’d disappear for days. I’d be left anxious, wondering where you were, what I did wrong. And then, when you finally came back or reached out after days of silence, I felt alive again. Like your attention was oxygen. Looking back, it was like an addiction. I had withdrawals when you were gone. And I hated myself for that for letting you treat me that way.
I had worked so hard to teach myself boundaries, to say no, to protect my peace. But somehow, with you, all that training vanished. Still, I forgive myself. I’ll always pray for forgiveness for staying too long, for losing myself in the process.
That was the past. And I know now: I never want to feel that way again.
Then, suddenly, a thought hit me: You’re gone. And I’m safe now.
I won’t feel anxious anymore. You’re no longer here to hurt me, to gaslight me, to twist things until I couldn’t recognize myself. You’re gone, and with your absence, I’ve reclaimed a part of me I thought I’d lost.
It’s freeing, so freeing to know I will never be hurt by you again.
