[Trigger Warning: This article touches on the sensitive subject of self-harm and self-mutilation]

Hello old friend,

It's been some time since we've talked -- so long that I can't even remember the last time we had a chat. That's surprising because there was a time that I couldn't go a day without talking to you; I was dependent on you, and I was convinced I needed you to survive. But I was wrong. I've done so much without you, and I'm actually proud of myself for shying away from you and resisting your touch when life gets rough and when I feel like my whole world is falling apart. Because trust me -- there were times that I wanted to lose myself in your familiar embrace.

Don't think I've completely forgotten about you, don't think I don't still think about you. Because I do. Times when I feel anxious, overwhelmed, or stressed out. When I feel like I'm losing control, I think of you. I can't help but think of the bond we shared, the feel of you against my skin. Sometimes I miss you. Why lie and deny it? Sometimes I miss you. Things haven't always been easy since the last time we saw one another, and honestly, there were times when I felt like everything would have been better if I'd ran back to you. I thought everything -- all my pain and all my problems -- would melt away if we had the chance to sit down and talk again.

I would have control over something again. Or at least I would have the illusion of control. Because the truth is -- you were always the one in control. When I feel like things would be better if I pulled you out of my desk drawer, I remember about everything else you bring with you. Sure, you brought me relief, but that relief was short-lived. I'd soon be consumed with guilt, physical pain, and shame; I'd be burdened with trying to figure out how to hide the results of our meeting. I had to plan the lies I was going to tell my friends and my teachers, and sometimes I had to come up with lies and excuses on the spot. It was exhausting, but I thought I was in control. The reality is that I was always under your control, always at your mercy.

Not anymore. I'm finally free, and I refuse to run back to you.

Like I said, things haven't been all rainbows and sunshine since we last talked. I've felt stressed and overwhelmed with coursework and personal things. I've questioned my choices more times than I can count, and I've questioned my existence on this earth and the path my life is taking (you know -- normal young adult/motherhood nonsense). It's caused me a lot of unnecessary drama and internal turmoil, but I've managed to get through it all. I've accomplished more than I ever throught possible, and I've done it all without you.

Now, let me be honest -- just because you're not a part of my life now doesn't mean that I will ever forget about you and about our relationship. You are a large part of my past, my life story, of me as a person. Our relationship and the time we spent together has left its mark on me: on my mental health and the way I look at my life and the world, my emotional health and the way I choose to handle situations, and my physical health in the scars that litter my left arm and my thighs. You may have helped to shape me and to mold me to become the person I have become, but you are a part of my past, and that's where you will stay.