JustAGirl

The break up
2019-09-06 13:18:51 (UTC)

PTSD

When I was younger I was, honestly I don’t know what to call it anymore. But I was molested for years by a best friend’s older brother and sometimes his friends.

I didn’t have a typical childhood. My mother gave me away at 9, I was raised by my aunt and uncle. My Uncle worked 2nd shift my aunt worked 3rd. I was left alone a lot. I went to a private school with less than 15 kids to a class. By the age of 11 I was basically fending for myself.

When I changed school it finally stopped. In 11th grade I was raped by a guy I was friends with. It happened on Halloween. I didn’t tell anyone, until months later. And it was too late. He raped another girl who confided in me, I told her to do nothing, because I knew no one believed me when I finally reported it to the school.

I was diagnosed with ptsd. I was secretly cutting which my family found out. And tried to get the help I needed, that lasted all of a week.

But somehow I think everything you’ve done to me is worse. I started feeling it rise again in my stomach. Me thinking about how you weren’t there when my grandmother died. And how I excused it. But I think how you never loved me. How can you love someone and not be there when they need you. She was dying, but instead hanging out with your friends was more important. And I forgave you.

I think about how when my mom was in the hospital on machines I asked you to get me. And you left to go spend the weekend with some girl and her family, and still I forgave you.

Today I just wanted to tell you how I saw good in you that was never there, good that never existed. Good I made up. And then I thought to myself why. It wouldn’t make me feel better for everything that’s happened. It wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t even change the way I look at myself or the confidence I’ve lost.

I hate you. And I hate myself for allowing myself to hate you. And worse I hate that there is still parts of me that misses you and still loves you.

I hate that when everything happened that first summer I waited for you to come back. And you did. I remember you telling me about the dates you had with Kristina and me crying the whole night wishing you loved me like I loved you. And then you lost your job, she left and found a new man and you came back. I drove a hour to drop you off food. We talked about how when we both got jobs things would be different. How you saw my side again. How 3 days a week wasn’t enough to build a solid relationship. You promised when you got a job that things would be different. That all this made you see how much you wanted to be with me. And how I did really deserve time, and most of all honesty. We agreed on a clean slate, to let the things with macy go. To move on and move past it.

Instead it was all lies, shortly after that you went to the Kanye concert with some girl you said didn’t exist. You were texting some girl and giving her kisses and lying to me about where you were. And still I forgave you, trusted you.. I fucking trusted you and believed you how fucking stupid.

And then you got a job, a good job. And could buy your truck and everything else and when that should been the start of our story things only got worse. I got less time than ever. And all I could think was you promised and finally, when your life was perfect and you no longer needed me to help you, feed you, fill out job applications, or worse help you get your promotion I pushed you to ask for because you wanted to quit…

You left.

When I found out about Emily it made me wonder how many of those lies I believed. How many girls you slept with during our time together. How many times I believed your stories of I was sleeping, when infact you were fucking girls behind my back.

Not only did you leave, you ghosted me.

Closure is a joke I know that. But honestly how…

How did I ever love such a coward.




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