You did not deserve me, and I did not deserve you.
As the title states, I dated you after I cheated on my first boyfriend, that makes you number two.
We met, and were attracted to one another, my age 16 to your 17. I had just accepted my sexuality so I was feeling like a new person and you were looking for someone to pass time with. I didn't know that at the time.
You mentally abused me so much, you made me feel so worthless all the time. It happened shortly after me and, we'll call him Andy, broke up. Things were going good. So fucking good, you made me feel like a princess. You spoiled me and did anything I asked. But after a week or two you got really, really controlling. To the point if I didn't text you back within a certain time frame, you blew up my phone. You also caught me at a time my self-confidence was down and my depression was in the fucking sky. I needed someone and you used that to your advantage. You always wanted to know what I was doing and who I was with but you never took time out of your schedule to see me when I needed you the most. It was always some piss-poor excuse on why you couldn't see me and I was delusional and accepted that. We broke up after 4 months but you turned me into the person I never wanted to be. I have been labeled because of you. I have been categorized by society because you fucked me up so badly, and it was only to fuel your selfish needs.
Do you remember that summer? Of 2012? Oh yea! That summer, where you picked me up and you took me to my favorite spot, a local park. I shared things with you and that was the first time you saw me in weeks.
But you didn't care. You only cared when you laid your hands on me, when you decided I was "talking too much about myself" and you hit me. My face stung for days after that. But you didn't stop there. You wanted to take a walk, you grabbed my hands gingerly and apologized for loosing your temper and how you'll never do that again. That lasted, a whole 5 minutes, you threw me into the tree. Do you remember that? I had a bruise on my shoulder for weeks...weeks. I told my parents I had no clue how that bruise got there. The further we got into the woods, with you mumbling your "I'm sorry" and "that'll never happen again, I just lost control" down the path we were taking. You decided whatever I was doing really pissed you off and you threw me to the ground and I scraped my knee.
You tore me to shreds with your words and actions. Made me feel like filth under your foot. You gave me a label that day during the summer, that carries on today. You branded me into this world and it stuck; so congratulations. You made a whore and slut. But, you will always be the despicable, lying, manipulative asshole you always were and I was too blind to see. You made it hard for me to open up to people and now people scare me when they are behind me. I always jump at raised hands and flinch back at raised voices.You made me believe my parents didn't care for me because you put that into your head. Now I can't even open up to my family. You gave me panic attacks instead of hugs, you gave me anxiety instead of love. You robbed me of my voice, so my words are doing the talking.
So dear second boyfriend, thank you, you have made me weak. I will never forgive you.
