I don't think you understand how much you hurt me.
How much you destroyed me.
I'm not talking about broken bones or bruises.
I'm talking about mentally.
She was supposed to be my "best friend".
Not by my decision, of course.
I didn't get to pick my friends.
You took a liking to her, didn't you?
I knew you liked her pretty fast.
I wanted to say something, to confront you about it.
But I was afraid.
You were always talking to her.
Sure, you held my hand under the table, but it was her you were looking at.
You were always leaving with her.
Yeah, you kissed me before you left, but it was her you would rather have been with.
I noticed this pretty early.
It seemed wrong.
It seemed weird.
I was right.
Eventually, you stopped holding my hand.
Soon after, you stopped kissing me goodbye.
It was like I was your friend and she was the girlfriend.
It wasn't in my head either.
Other people thought so, too.
I tried talking to you about it once.
That was a mistake.
Do you remember it?
You probably don't.
But I remember it.
That's one beating I'll never forget.
You told me that you can hang out with whoever you want.
You told me that I have no say in how you spend your time.
You told me that you were the authority in our relationship.
You told me that I had to just do what you said and never question it.
I was so oblivious to the message that you were pounding into my head.
"I'm in control. You're nothing to the world. I'll do what I want and you have to deal with it because all you are is shit. This girl is the one I like. You're just easier to control. So shut up, and look happy before I have to put you in the hospital again."
That was your message.
And with everything you told me came some impact.
A slap.
A punch.
A shove.
A kick.
I never made the mistake of questioning you ever again.
And yet, I wish I had.