Dear You,
I don’t hate you.
It’s worse than that.
I loved you.
I felt safe.
I felt used.
I felt happiness.
I felt heartbreak.
I saw the world in color…
Until you taught me what black and gray looked like.
You pushed.
I pulled.
You screamed.
I cried.
Tell me…
Was I never worthy of the love I had to give?
Did hurting me make you feel whole?
Don’t you know you had someone who would have sold her soul just to keep you safe?
Don’t you know…
You’ll never find a love like that again?
Dear you,
It’s been years.
Look at us.
Still standing in the same place.
I don’t hate you.
It’s worse than that.
I stay awake while you sleep beside me.
I cry.
You laugh.
I smoke.
You drink…
And drink…
And drink…
Until I don’t recognize the man lying next to me.
I tell you I’m hurting.
You tell me you’re hurting more.
I forgive you.
You wake up the next morning as if nothing ever happened.
Dear you,
I don’t hate you.
It’s worse than that.
I don’t know how to leave.
But I don’t know how to stay.
You tell me I’m not here anymore.
The truth?
I’ve been screaming at the top of my lungs for years.
Nothing ever came out.
Because somewhere along the way…
I forgot what my own voice sounded like.
Dear you,
You almost had me convinced.
You told me I was nothing without you.
And I believed you.
So I stayed.
While secretly praying someone—anyone—would love me simply for being me.
Even if that someone had to be myself.
Dear you,
You really did it this time.
You say you’re sorry.
Then you hurt me again.
You say you’re sorry.
Then you pick up the bottle.
Again.
And again.
Until your apology becomes just another empty promise floating in the bottom of a glass.
Dear you,
I’m leaving.
Not because I stopped loving you.
But because I finally started loving myself.
I found love.
I found purpose.
I found peace.
I found happiness.
I found a life where I no longer have to beg someone to choose me.
Dear you,
I hope your soul finds its way home.
I hope you find the peace you were always searching for at the bottom of a bottle.
I hope you heal.
And even though I probably shouldn’t…
I still whisper your name to the moon.
Not because I want you back.
But because I hope one day you become the person I always believed you could be.
Dear you,
I found myself…
The moment I stopped trying to find you.
And for the first time in a long time…
I see the world in color again
