A Letter To My Love

I wish everything had turned out differently.

From the first time I saw you, you drew me in like a young child to the bounty that lies under the tree on Christmas morning. There was so much to uncover. I took all my time peeling and ripping each layer off of the present, in the hopes that I would find that which I so desperately wanted on the inside. Little did I know, the only thing inside of you was a cold, dead heart.

I was mesmerized by you. You seemed so untouchable, undefeatable, undeniably strong. I hoped that by hanging around you, I could glean a small anount of the self-confidence you held. Instead, I found you tearing down my self image and tossing it into the flames without even a second thought. I remember telling myself the first time that you just had a bad day; that it wouldn’t happen again. But time and time it did.

You were so cruel to me, but like a car wreck that plays over and over again inside the mind, I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t get away either: everywhere I went, you were there too. I remember the first time I retreated into my safe little oasis of the bathroom stall and tore my arms apart, hoping the physical pain would distract from the emotional war that raged on inside my head. It did, but the pain was fleeting, and I was back at it again in less time than it took for you to ensnare me.

Then the rumors started. As if telling me I was terrible wasn’t enough, you had to go and tell everyone else too. I remember the time I asked you if you wanted me to die. Little did I know those words would cause you to turn to your parents and tell them that I was going to kill myself. I was shocked, as this wasn’t true. Sure, I was unhappy with myself, but I didn’t want to die. Did I?

I ended up in therapy and on meds because of you.

You never spoke to me again.

When I think about it, you probably saved my life. Not now, but further down the road, who knows what would have happened if you hadn’t started those rumors? I got help because of you, but the only reason I needed help was because you were so cruel to me.

Every time I think of you, I’m torn. Do I put you on a pedestal and hail you as a hero like everyone else? Or do I look down upon you as you suffer now from your own mistakes, and laugh?

I cant decide. In another world, maybe things could have ended up different.