To the Other Half of the Relationship that Almost Killed Me:
You came with a warning label that I ignored. It did not say enough. No one told me that my relationship with you would become more important than any other relationship I had, that being with you would quickly become my only goal, that you would become my life. Then again, if someone had told me, I would not have believed them.
You were seductive, hot, the ultimate romantic. I couldn’t breathe when your fingers wrapped themselves around my heart and you whispered sweet nothings into my ear. I was in a different world when I was with you – a world just for the two of us.
My friends warned me about you. I was told stories of what you had done to others. I saw things about you online. Red flag after red flag. I couldn’t count the number of times that I heard the words “be careful”. I ignored it all. How could something that felt so safe be as dangerous as everyone was saying?
I forgot about how cold life can be when I was enveloped in your warmth. I forgot about the pain when your scent flooded my room. I forgot about the relationships before you when you held me in bed.
It wasn’t long before the obsession began. You stalked me. You crawled into my head and fed me thoughts that I eagerly gobbled up: I needed you. You wouldn’t let me go anywhere without you, and I didn’t want to. In the rare moments we were apart, all I could think about was you. I counted down the minutes until we would reunite.
You shielded me from reality. You served as a buffer between me and the world that I was too sensitive to handle. I perceived it as protection from others when you were really just trying to keep me to yourself.
Our once innocent love burst into flames, charring and shriveling in the fire. I could hear you yelling at me even when things were calm. You choked me. You made me see things of your own creation as truth. You stripped the values from my soul like the clothes from my body. Honesty, compassion, dignity, humor, conviction, accountability, freedom – all casualties in the war that we fought every day.
I tried to break up with you. I shook and cried and pushed you away as hard as I could. My mind and body cried out for you so hard that I thought I was being ripped in two. I couldn’t imagine a life without you. I ran back to you and you welcomed me back as passionately as you had first reeled me in.
Almost immediately, you reminded me why I had wanted to leave in the first place. I was angry the way you taught me to be. I tore myself apart in your lap and you urged me further. You no longer comforted me when I cried. We were together, but I felt completely alone.
At the same time that I wished for death as a way to escape you, I wished for life so that we could spend more time together. I woke up in the morning with the sole purpose of being with you, and I went to bed at night praying that I would die in my sleep and never have to see you again.
Then you almost killed me. After a night of fighting with you, I woke up in a crumpled heap on the floor with dried blood caked on my skin. I could barely move. It took every ounce of energy I had to pick myself up and all I could do was reach for where you stood over me.
I told my parents what you were doing to me. They told me that I had to leave you, but I couldn’t – you were my everything. We got sneakier. I lied to them about what I was doing during the day and I locked them out of my room at night so that they wouldn’t catch us together. I knew that staying with you would cost me my life, but I couldn’t let go. I didn’t care. I thought that if I died with you, I would die happy.
My parents caught on to us and took me to a hospital where I was held for months trying to recover from the damage that you had done to my body, mind, and spirit. I didn’t sleep most nights because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I shook uncontrollably in my stiff hospital bed as my stomach ate away at itself and my chest split open, my heart screaming for the only thing it had been beating for: you.
I told my doctor that all I wanted was to be with you again, and he said that going back to you was suicide. I did not respond, but I knew he was right. If we got back together, either you would kill me or I would kill myself. Survival would not be an option.
I decided during that hospitalization that I was done. I needed you, but the people who actually loved me needed me more. That was over a year ago.
I still think about you. I still miss you. My lips still yearn for your taste. My stomach does somersaults when I go to the places that we went together. I can’t breathe when I smell something that reminds me of you. My chest tightens when I remember what it was like to feel you close to me.
I know that if I want to live, I can never be with you again. I will never feel your peace again. I will never feel your wrath again.
Synthetic marijuana, I will never bow to you again.