I want you to know that whatever happens to me, it’s all your fault
I’ve wanted to die since I met you all those years ago… Well no, that’s a lie, isn’t it. At first, you made me feel special, and you made me want to live, but that changed. We got comfortable with each other, and you got mean. Abusive.
That’s when I decided I wanted to die.
When we dated, you made sure I knew I wasn’t enough; not skinny enough, not pretty enough, not happy enough (despite you knowing about my depression years before we got together). You told me straight up that no one could love me, no one other than you. That’s why I “messed around” with you, even after we broke up. You led me on, making me think we’d get back together… I had a chance with someone else, but I got scared and ran from them, out of fear of them not loving me, because like you said, no one else could possibly love me. I’m a burden; I was a burden to you, my friends, even my family. I stayed, clinging to you… I knew what you were giving me wasn’t love, but if you said you loved me, and no one else could, I wasn’t going to risk getting even worse from someone.
We broke up 6 months ago and I still want to die. I’m scared no one can love me to be honest. You really fucked me up. I’m scared to try. I’ve wanted to die for 2 years now. Because of you.
Though obviously, because of my family, I wanted to die before you. 4 years ago. I was happy for a brief time with you though…
Some people tell me that’s why you pursued me – I was depression, anxious, and scared already, so it wouldn’t be hard to make yourself my coping method, and from there, you could do whatever, because I was yours. I couldn’t leave because you cut me from everyone I had… Ethan hated me because he loved me and I chose you… Because you convinced me he was disgusted, due to my horrible family life.
That’s what abusers do you know… They look for already vulnerable people, and make them feel special, and wanted, before they kill them.
I took pity on you, because I thought you were the same as me – damaged. Your ex committed suicide… Since we broke up, I’ve talked to her. She faked her death so you would stop messaging her. When we were together, I thought she was fucked up, and you were the victim, but after seeing what you did to me, I feel like you’re the problem. You make girls hate themselves, whilst you played the victim, telling all your lies.
On the other hand, I also want to succeed, just to spite you.
If I don’t kill myself because of you, I promise you this, you will see me again. I’m going to be a doctor, either a mental health worker, or a doctor of philosophy, and maybe even write a book or two.
I’m going to find someone who loves me, and I love fully, and I’m going to have beautiful children with them. Do you want to know why? Because that’s what I deserve, despite how you made me feel.
I will be better than you, and I will work towards more than you can imagine, and you will regret your pathetic life of making a chain of girls want to die because of the cancer than you call your love.
But that’s the problem.
Your love is cancer… Even when it’s gone, the damage is still there.
I don’t know what I will choose – to live or to die
Everyone tries to use my family as a reason to live, but I refuse to live for someone else, especially people I hate. But then, at the same time, I refuse to give up my life for you, when I’m honestly worth at least 1000 of you.
And whatever I chose, I really hope it gets back to you and destroys you, because even though I’m worth more than you, I’m still petty and bitchy.
If I kill myself, I will write you a letter, and I will make sure everyone knows you are to be blamed and I will make sure you are guilt ridden to a point you regret your life, and everything you have done to so many girls.
But then, if I live… Well wouldn’t it be ironic, if our lives cross again, when I’m so much more than a little girl that you tore apart, just to build yourself.
I honestly hate you Sweetie.