Dear Heartbreaker,

You destroyed me.

You slithered your way into my very being and after I finally rid myself of you, I realized that you took everything I was with you.

You decided I was yours and for no one else. You thought you could take ownership of me. You made ME think you could take ownership of me.

It wasn’t until I finally flushed out every ounce of you and began to fill myself up again that I realized that no one can take ownership of me, of any other person. I am my own being, and I will be damned if I let anyone try to challenge that.

It was a year before I could finally listen to the songs you frequently related to yourself-- to us. It took me a month to start listening to the songs that I was too afraid to tell you that I liked because of your apparent disgust for them. It was a year and a half before I could pick up the books we would read and talk about together and not think about you every single time I turned the page.

You are the reason I don’t let anyone write in any of my books anymore or let them wrinkle and fold the pages. You are the reason I can’t stand some of the songs I used to love.

You are the reason I am careful to keep other’s bothersome comments to myself because I learned from you that if I tell other people that they will get incredibly and irrationally angry and start yelling at me. You are the reason I’m weary of telling people what’s wrong with me because I spent 2 years being conditioned by you to let other people’s problems eclipse my own because they are always deeper or more important.

Newsflash: Just because people have never experienced exactly what you have does not mean they can’t feel what they feel. Mental illnesses affect everyone, not just little boys with mommy issues they never bothered to learn how to deal with. It is not reserved for the boys that act like assholes, recognize they act like assholes, and make no attempt to treat people any differently. It is not reserved for the boys who take advantage of other people’s feelings.

That’s exactly what you did all the time. Even to me. You swore up and down you would never hurt me and yet you did. You cheated on me and I still forgave you. You picked an argument with me as I was coming down from an anxiety attack and I still forgave you. You wrote me a long, nasty letter on Halloween about how much I had changed after our break up, how I wasn’t the girl you fell in love with anymore, and I still cannot forgive you for that.

You “fell in love” with a fragile girl who was getting ready to enter high school. You “fell in love” with a broken girl who didn’t believe in anything, especially herself.

You have no idea how happy I am that I’m not that girl you fell in love with anymore. The thought that I am not the girl you fell in love with anymore is the thought that keeps me going day in and day out. I’m not weak anymore. I realize how much of a shitty person you could be. I realize now, that I deserve so much better than the person you were two years ago and the person you continue to be today.

So good luck, heart-breaker. I’m sure you’ve experienced plenty of characteristic changes too, but realize that after everything you did the person you are now still does not deserve the person I am today.

Sincerely Not Yours,

The Girl Who Happily Ran Away