i am everything and nothing and nobody and alone / that is what you wanted, yes – ? / and no. what you wanted was me
to be yours
and yours alone though i am only myself when you are not looking at me.
i hope it burns
when i smile / when i laugh
as if you never
knew me at all.
a very important note, for the person/people reading this.
i wrote this a day, or maybe three, after breaking off a 7-year abusive relationship (a “friendship”, if you can call it that, at all, where my best friend had been “in love” with me). i currently attend school with this person. i have to see him in the corridors and watch the people i thought were some of my closest friends – the people who know the repulsive, rotten details of the way he controlled me and abused me, physically and emotionally – laugh and joke with him, as if it’s nothing.
it took me 3 years and 10 rounds of CBT to even begin recovering from the last abusive dynamic i found myself, at fifteen years old, trapped within for a miserable, traumatising period of time – the frustration i feel, now, having to learn to recover from this, to have to work so hard to learn who i am, what i am and want and to reconnect with the people around me, who truly love and care for me… it’s immense. i’m stronger than i was at fifteen, that’s true; and stronger still, after working through years of trauma with that therapist (sarah, a lovely, if oddly petty, and intelligent woman). i’m strong, and my hands shake when i see him. i am healing, and i’ve broken out in a hot, sweaty flush of sheer panic when i can’t see him in the cafeteria because if i don’t know where he is, exactly, anxiety hits me like a truck.
he isn’t my abuser anymore, but what he did to me has left its marks. they’ll turn into scars, and those scars will fade, but for now, i wanted to make sure – without going into the details in this note – that anyone who read this understands that he’ll be present in my poetry, and the stories i want to post here, too. him, and the ones who broke me, almost, while i
him, and the ones who broke me, almost, while i still knew him, but not what the term emotional abuse was, before i understood any of what he was doing or knew what he would do – they’re in it, too.
so, here’s to you knowing some of me a little better, and to understanding even more of me through my writing, in the future.