3 weeks. I needed clarification. I needed to understand. I needed to see you to see your face, judge if you’re lying. You were. You don’t care, you don’t feel anything. In the same breath you told me you’d prefer my death so you wouldn’t have to worry about my suffering, the asked to borrow money. Really? How can you be so callous? Did my life mean so little to you? You’ve already destroyed me, but telling me I’m a cheater, that’s how you see this. Backtracking made no difference. You said it. You think I’m crying wolf for no reason. You think I wanted you. My protests, my fear, my pain. They’re nothing. I meant nothing. Why can’t I hurt you when you’ve taken such a huge part of me? When I’ve lost myself to you, to your whims, forever.
Week 3. I’m not better, I’m so much worse.
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