(Trigger Warning: This article contains sexual assault, depression, and suicidal experiences and profanity.)

You treated me like shit. Let's be honest, you were a terrible boyfriend even without having sexually assaulted me. You never accepted my gender or sexuality, always brushed it off whenever I brought it up. You said you were cool with it but never used my proper pronouns. You even said you wouldn't play your favorite video game if the main characters were gay. You never wanted to hear about my group therapy for LGBTQ+ or all the cool things I learned about my community.

At first, it seemed like you did support me. I remember how happy I was when gay marriage was legalized. We sat down with your father for dinner and you brought it up. Your father said it was a shame that it was now legal, and you didn't say anything. You just let him talk me down and didn't defend me. Do I not deserve rights?

In all reality, you didn't defend me on anything. Your whole family thought I was a whore and terrible person, without ever even meeting me. Simply because they knew you cheated with me on your college girlfriend (if you can even call that cheating since I was 15). But it was never your fault, you were the perfect son and loving brother. Oh no, it was always mine.

They would call me horrible things to my face, behind my back and on social media. And you did absolutely nothing. You actually fueled it. You would lie to them about me. Blame me for shit you'd do, like forgetting birthdays or being absent from their lives. They believed I was trapping you, when in reality, I encouraged you to go home and see your family. I wanted to go with you, I wanted them to like me. But neither you or they would ever give me a chance. So, eventually I gave up and finally I started fighting back. Which, boy oh boy, did that only make things worse.

You would point out my flaws regularly. When I grew out my leg and arm hair to see how I was recovering from my anemia, you called me disgusting. When I cut my hair, you cursed at me, despite us discussing it months in advance. I freaking donated it to children with cancer and your only response was, "I don't fucking like women with short hair." My boobs were too big, my ass too small. In return, I started doing it to you.

Pointing out your weight gain, how little effort you put into your appearance. You hated the dentist and brushing your teeth, but if I smelled slightly bad after working out, all hell broke loose. You would ignore me to stare at your phone all day or play video games. You never wanted to do what I wanted and never wanted to get involved in my interests. It was always about you. So, I stopped caring about you. I would cut you off when you talked about your day or things you were excited for.

I became toxic. I was so depressed and insecure. I freaked out on you for the tiniest fuck up and I hated myself for it. I would scream at you for always working late and for always playing games. I would become enraged when you would flirt with other girls. You weren't just being friendly and we both fucking knew it. Because you cheated. You're now with the girl who was just your "friend." I was so fucked up, I barely ate, I had no sex drive, I wanted to do nothing but sleep.

I didn't want to live because of you. I once attempted to throw myself out the car window when we fought on the way to the mall. Can you imagine being so upset and so ridiculed in your relationship that you tried to throw yourself out a moving car? I attempted suicide five times while with you and began to self-harm.

You broke me. I hated myself. I hated my personality and my body because of you. When I sat down with Seph, my dear friend and told them about you and what you did. I broke down about how I thought it was all my fault. That I was a terrible, toxic partner. Seph just took my hand and said, "No, my moon, it wasn't your fault. When people abuse you, you become abusive, because it's the only way you've been taught to respond."

That's all it took. I am so much better now without you. Of course, I'm still depressed. But I'm no longer suicidal. I have the motivation to read, go to class, watch Netflix and play video games. I'm going out and seeing friends, forming new bonds, and experiencing life. I have the motivation to write this article, which I never had with you. You never supported my dreams or pushed me to be my best. My world revolved around you; I was obsessed with you and my time was only meant to be used by you.

I'm free now.

I am free and I am happy. I can still be toxic. My depression makes me easily irritable and I snap on friends and family sometimes. I have panic attacks and sometimes lack the energy to live. But I am not just surviving anymore. I am living, enjoying, breathing.

I am still breathing without you.