It's not me, it's you. Really, it is.

As I write this, I can hear the rain hitting the window to my left as the gray clouds roll over this city that at one time brought me so much pain. And I feel alone. But I would rather be swallowed in this feeling of being alone than with your bittersweet company that once consumed me daily.

We had a good run, longer than I would like to admit, but good nonetheless. We started off as all good relationships do, I suppose. Me: young and curious, looking for something, anything really, to fill my void. You: seeming so innocent, claiming to be my destiny. And the rest is history.

At the first kiss, I was hooked. All it took was that one cold kiss of a metal blade to my soft, virgin wrist. I swore you were the one. I thought that this was the answer. All of my pain, suffering, loneliness and hurt would be solved by you. You seemed to hold all of the answers I was looking for. You were going to save me.

Like any relationship, our honeymoon stage was short lived. I quickly became embarrassed of you, trying so hard to hide any evidence that you were ever on my mind and constantly tugging at my sleeves and layering bracelets to try and ignore the fact that I had ever spent any time with you at all.

With time, you became mentally abusive. You began taking over my every thought. My days at school were spent thinking of coming home to you, even if I hated what you were doing to me. Even though every kiss upon my wrist made me feel alive for a brief moment, a feeling I was craving and wasn't used to having without you. But after you would leave I would sit on my floor, mascara running down my face (and not in the artistic way I thought it would run based on what I'd seen on Tumblr), and I would look at what you had done to me. I would cry because of what you had done. I would look in the mirror and ask myself why I had ever agreed to let you into my life in the first place. I would hold the bleeding kisses you left me and swear that tomorrow would be the day that I would break up with you.

Day after day I would make every effort to cut things off with you. I would plead with you and try to make you understand that things weren't how I was once expecting they would be. I was trying to explain how things took a turn for the worst and how I needed to let you go because you were causing me more pain, the one thing you had sworn you'd relieve me of.

Some days I could successfully let you be. Every day, even now, you still manage to find a way to beg me to get back together with you. Which is why I'm writing to you today, to let you know that I cannot get back together with you. We are officially broken up.

I know this is hard for you, to no longer be in control of my life. But people change, I'm no longer the same girl I was when I first came running to you begging for you to fix me. By no means did you fix me, you left me more damaged than I was before you, but I thank you. I thank you for showing me what I deserve and for teaching me to stand on my own and to not feel like I have to use you as a crutch to support me. You were with me on some important days of my life, but I can no longer carry you with me as I go forward with the next chapters. I can finally breathe without you.

I hope you understand. I know that this is hard for you. But this is what's best for me right now.