I’m starting a new series called Letters From A Broken Heart. Each part in this series will be a letter to an ex-lover who broke my heart. These are my raw and honest feelings. It’s a little terrifying opening myself up and being this vulnerable, but it’s a cathartic and healing experience. I hope sharing these letters will be healing for my readers as well.
This is D.C.s story.
I’m not really sure how to start this letter because I feel like I said everything I needed to when I sent you 20+ messages cursing you out last year.
The love shared between us was so beautiful + passionate but it wasn’t without flaws. I sometimes find myself questioning if you ever really loved me because abuse is not love.
Sometimes I hate you more than I hate my first abuser because you listened to me cry when I told you what he did to me and you turned around and did the exact same thing.
How do you live with yourself? How do you sleep at night knowing you tried to kill the woman you claimed to love? I’ll tell you how I live… because of you I was diagnosed with PTSD. Because of you, there are times I can’t close my eyes without seeing your hands wrapped around my throat. I can still feel you choking the life out of me as I struggled to breathe. My therapist said if I would’ve called the cops on you like I should’ve, you would have possibly been charged with attempted murder. I truly believe you were trying to kill me. And you justified it by saying I hit you but let’s not forget I didn’t lay a hand on you until you had already pushed me down. Nothing I did AFTER YOU HAD ALREADY PUT YOUR HANDS ON ME justifies you pinning me against the wall and choking me.
Yes, I have to live with the trauma you’ve caused me but you have to live with knowing that you’re an abuser. You have to live with knowing that you’re a bitch. You have to live with knowing that something inside of you is so fucked up that you think it’s acceptable to put your hands on a woman.
And to think I loved you enough to encourage you to seek therapy. I tried to support you in getting help for all your issues. But you didn’t want help, you wanted to remain broken and damaged.
Does your family know what a piece of shit you are? Do they even know what you did to me or why we actually broke up? Probably not considering you released that wack-ass song trying to paint yourself as a victim. You told only the part of the story that makes you look innocent. At least when I talk about what happened, I tell the whole truth. Maybe you’re too ashamed to admit your wrongdoings.
There were so many other problems in our relationship. At some point, you stopped putting in effort. I remember once during an argument you said you felt like you didn’t have to try in our relationship because I was already “yours”. That cut me deep. You’re never supposed to stop putting forth effort when you’re in a relationship with the person you love. Your lack of effort caused me to have thoughts of cheating on you which is why I fought for an open relationship at one point. And it wasn’t like I didn’t try to communicate how I was feeling or tell you my wants + needs. You just didn’t care enough to fix the problem.
I am glad our relationship ended when it did. If we were still together, I never would’ve made all the progress I have. Us breaking up forced me to learn how to be alone. It taught me that I should never depend on anyone else to make me happy because happiness comes from within. I learned to enjoy solitude and learned to love myself after we broke up. We held each other back in so many ways. I finally started college pursuing a bachelor’s degree in English and I’ve made more money freelancing than I ever made when we were together. I’ve learned to truly enjoy how beautiful life is. Had we still been together, I’d still be miserable. I even finally started losing weight which is something I could never seem to do when we were together.
I’ve checked your social media a few times and you also seem to be doing well. I believe our breakup was for the best.
I don’t regret our relationship. At one point, I thought we’d be spending our lives together. I do wish that things had ended amicably between us but I can’t change the past.
One day, I hope to forgive you, not for you but for my own peace of mind. I don’t want to be your victim anymore. I don’t want to feel angry + bitter whenever I think of you.
I want to be free. I want to be able to tell my story without becoming tense and anxious.
I’ll never forget what you did to me but I get to decide how I let it affect me.
I’m choosing to release the baggage I’ve been carrying around.
No Longer Your Victim
To read the other letters in this series, click here.