It was punching your stupid little punching bag when you got mad at me till you had a bruised hand and bloody knuckles. You never held me or even asked what was wrong when I lay sobbing on the bed. And you even used to tell me not to kiss you.

It was crying when I cried because you knew I would comfort you and ignore my own pain. And you left me that night, scared and alone, trying to cry silently so no one would hear me. You even slit your wrists and held a gun to your head, knowing that I would feel responsible.

It was all the therapy sessions since where I’ve talked and cried because you never let me talk and you never let me cry.

And now you want me to come back! How could I? How could I be with you when all you ever did was tear me apart from the inside out? You took everything I was and everything I had, and you left me completely empty. Alone and afraid to love or trust again. Time and again I’ve tried to make sense of it in my mind, but how do you make sense of madness?

Don’t touch me! Don’t you dare touch me again, ever! Because it was everything. It was everything you did, and all the things you never did.