(Trigger warnings: suicide)
It still hurts, you know.
The moments we had before always run in my head until today. I think about it in my mind. *Where did I go wrong? Was I the one who ruined our relationship? *
But in all honesty, it was hard.
Living with you was hard, especially when your suicidal tendencies were always at peak. I remember that night you told me you were gonna do it. You turned your phone off so I couldn’t reach you. The next thing I heard from you was you scratched yourself til you bled, and you laughed like crazy in our call. I couldn’t forget about that night.
I don’t think you even knew I was exposed to your toxicity. Our relationship was such a bad environment for me that even I couldn’t tell that I was already damaged.
You were so unstable. Even your personality was changing everyday. You could be totally happy right now and then the next minute, you could be pushing everyone out to isolate yourself. You were telling me how you fantasize about killing yourself every time. It left me worrying so bad about you every night.
But in the end, all this worrying ended up me being called too “obsessed” about you, by you yourself. I cried for days, because all you only saw me as this crazy, obsessed girl when I was anxious about the thought not hearing anything anymore from you the next day.
I could’ve just brushed all the things you told me, realizing they were actually all lies and exaggerations. But then again, I loved you.
That’s why I blamed myself for it, even if I didn’t understand what was the wrong that I did. I listened to you and repelled my own thoughts about me.
Your words resounded in my head, and until now, it does.
I thought you couldn’t hurt me anymore, but I guess not.
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