I was 15 and desperately wanted acceptance and love, like any other teenager. And when I met you, I thought I had found that. You were kind, sweet, caring, funny, cute, a believer in Christ, and I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. You treated me well and was always interested in me. I couldn’t figure out why another girl hadn’t swooped you up yet. The more I talked to you, the more I came to like you. We hadn’t been talking for long before the L-word slipped. When you said it to me, I was overwhelmed with happiness. You told me I was beautiful and the best thing that ever happened to you. I finally felt wanted and accepted. I was special to a guy. I was something.

Days passed by and the more I got to know you, the darker things became. I found out who you really were. The guy you didn’t let me see before. I would never have been with you if I had known. I know you couldn’t help all of it, but you certainly did go out of your way to hurt me when you could. You were sick and didn’t even try to do anything to get help. You let your bi-polar depression win you over and it seemed like you were OK with it. Then you told me that you were actually an atheist and was attempting to turn my religion against me. I was stunned.

We fought all the time, and it wasn’t about stupid friends things. It’s because you would say those awful hateful things about yourself and others. I tried to help you see differently. You were so angry and your moods changed within a heartbeat. But, when you turned your hate and problems to me, that’s when I began to fall apart.

You said and called me the worst things. You called me ugly, fat, a dirty whore. You told me no one loved me and you were only with me because you felt bad for me. You were doing me a favor. And when you told me that I shouldn’t even be alive, God damn it, I couldn’t breathe. The sick thing about it all is that while you were busy tearing me down, I was too busy trying to save you. You manipulated me and told me you loved me every time you hurt me, but then you would sit there and tell me about how you wanted to kill yourself. I called suicide centers to ask for help for you and to give me guidance on how to help.

I remember all of the nights we stayed on the phone and I cried begging you not to hurt yourself. There were so many nights that I didn’t sleep or if I did I cried myself to sleep. I tried my hardest to save you and all you did was try to kill me with your words. You lived too far away to hurt me physically, but you were still able to damage me over the phone. They say that words can kill and boy did they get close.

Because of you, I hated myself. I couldn’t even stand to look in the mirror because I saw all of the flaws that you pointed out. I still tried to make myself pretty, but no matter what, I felt ugly. I pulled away from my friends, even my best friend, because I was so depressed and down on myself. Then, after too much of your abuse and hurt, I tried to hurt myself. Thank God it didn’t work, I couldn’t quite do it. You had made me hate myself that much. That experience made me realize how badly I needed to get away from you.

I stayed with you longer because I wanted to try harder to help you. As I look back, what I felt most strongly during our several months together was the need to save you. No matter how I felt and how badly you treated me, I need to make sure that you were safe. That whole while, you continued to break me down, and I finally pushed myself to break up with you. It was incredibly hard, but I couldn't take it anymore.

When I finally broke up with you, I cannot tell you how relieved I was. I felt the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders, but it was still hard. I missed you for some crazy reason and you didn’t make it easy. You called me to tell me that I was the reason you were going to kill yourself because I broke your heart. I fought the urge to go back to you and I made myself free.

I guess what I’m trying to say to you is...

You didn’t win.

After all of those months of hurting me and telling me to kill myself, I didn’t do it and I got out.

I feel like you threatened suicide for show, or just to hurt me.

I may be wrong, but this is how I feel. You threatened all of those times to hurt me or for show. You never have hurt yourself and I really feel like it was all for attention. Even now, years later, you’re still out and about. You’re also still hurting people.

You disgust me.

I felt so bad for you for the longest time. Even when you were abusing me, I thought you were just a poor soul that needed help. I still think you need help, but not in the same ways. You made an already vulnerable girl turn against herself more and you went out of your way to make me feel small. You played upon my insecurities and you told me to do an unthinkable thing. You’re also still hurting people. I know the girl that you got pregnant and left. We are great friends, and she told me how you treated her the exact same way.

I hope you get the help you need.

Just because you hurt me, doesn’t mean that I don’t think you deserve a better life. I hope you finally decide to grow up and take your medicine. I hope you are able to speak with someone to help you figure out your head. I hope you get help so you don’t hurt anyone anymore.

I forgive you.

You’re probably not sorry for it. I mean, I know you’ve done this same thing to another girl, so it obviously isn’t a problem in your eyes. But anyway, even without actually offering an apology, I forgive you. I learned important lessons from our relationship and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I wish I hadn’t been hurt in the ways I was, but I learned nonetheless and it has helped me become the person I am today.