Content Warning: abuse, language, violence

Reader: I wrote this as a status update on my ex-boyfriend's recent birthday. I have taken out identifying information, and considered not sharing it with a greater audience than my Facebook "safe list"; but I also considered how many people are in the same sort of situation, and feel it is important to be candid with the topic of domestic violence. Here I present the status update, slightly expanded upon.

It is my ex boyfriend's birthday; let us now consider these birthday thoughts and wishes for him.

Dear _____,

Fifteen years ago you ruined my life, very slowly and methodically, over the course of a year, a relationship that culminated in your hands wrapped around my throat, crushing my windpipe. All 82 lbs of me, stripped down and down and down with your constant gaslighting, your compulsive lying, your isolating me from my friends, oh god all your lies. How scary violent you could be at the drop of a dime. Remember when you broke down the closet door because I asked you to make me a drink? Remember when you told me I could focus on school if I moved in with you, only to berate me every day for not working, for having no money? And then I eventually stopped going to school, because I was so scared and depressed, I could not leave the bed. Remember the photos of all the girls you ever slept with, "hidden" around the apartment so that I would find them? Remember when you made me burn all my photos from my past because my past didn't matter anymore? Remember all those things you did, until I took a bottle of pills just to get away from you, my stomach pumped with charcoal and you saying "I'm sorry" as they shoved a tube down my throat? It was the only time you ever said you were sorry.

Did you know that even now, 15 years later, every singular thing you did has affected every part of my life? My crippling anxiety, a klonopin or two or three a day. How little I trust people. How scared of men I am. How I take everything anyone tells me with a grain of salt-- how I assume they are always lying, and not to gain anything -- just lying for the sake of lying. I walk on eggshells, waiting for someone to hurt me. I strike first, so that they can't.

I just checked -- we have eight mutual friends on Facebook. Do they know you are a sociopath? Some of them must. How many people do you have snowed over? Do they know how violent you can be? Or do they think you're such a great guy with your business and your wife and you're oh so happy. Of course I keep tabs on you-- seeing you in person would terrify me, so I like to know where you are. Not all the time, maybe once or twice a year, I look to see where you are. It is why I won't block you on Facebook. Remember when my car broke down in front of your store a few years ago? I had no idea where I was, and when I saw you, I wanted to leave the car in the middle of the road, run away. I wanted to leave it and run into traffic.

My biggest regret is that I did not call the police when you tried to kill me. I wish I had, that there would be, out there, a record of what you are capable of, an attempted murder charge, or assault and battery at least. But I was young and I was dumb and I just wanted to get away from you. And you've never been one to deal with CONSEQUENCES. There was a time I thought maybe you were invincible, a terrible demon that could not be stopped. And besides, who would even believe me-- how many times have I heard, "Well he's always been so nice TO ME!?"

You broke everything I was, and time has proven there is not enough glue in the world to fix me. I have been running from the detritus of our relationship ever since.

Maybe you've changed. I doubt it. I'm willing to bet that you've just become a better liar, a professional sociopath. I just want you to know that today, on your birthday, I hope nothing but the worst for you. I am older now, and tired of taking the high road, standing the moral ground. I will continue to sneer when I hear your name; I will continue to tell people what you did to me. You deserve every bit of bad that could come your way. There is not enough bad in the world for you.

As for me, every day I am hoping that I can forget you ever existed. That I can wake up next to someone and not wonder when they're going to turn on me. That I won't flinch when someone moves too fast, or I won't panic when I wear even a scarf around my neck.

Fuck you, you utter piece of human waste.

Happy birthday.