When I think of you… 💔

I don’t think about the good times, as the bad outshined the good, no matter what I painted to the world. I don’t think about how I miss your touch or how I miss being in your arms because I do not miss any of those things. I don’t think about how heartbroken I am, because I am not. 

When I think of you, I think of the words you said that made my chest hurt. I think about the unsafe environment that you created for my intimacy and vulnerability. To be yelled at, in your words, “only 3 times” about my lack of intimacy and then be blamed for it, is what I think about. I think about the endless temper tantrums and continuous rants you would go on whenever I wasn’t fulfilling you, sexually. But, what I also think about is how I was unable to even have a period without feeling as if I was going to get in trouble because I didn’t want to sleep with you because I was in pain and exhausted. And unfortunately for me, I had them twice a month because my stress level was through the roof. So, I dreaded something that was completely out of my control because of the behavior that would be displayed which ultimately in the end, made me less attracted to you.

When I think of you, I think of the fact that you were upset that I didn’t discuss with you the fact that I did not like to “swallow” and in turn was called selfish because I am not a pleaser. Which is completely inaccurate, I just didn’t want to display a level of vulnerability with someone that was not easy to please, nor created a safe environment to want to create pleasure. Instead, I still chose to, even though I didn’t like it, because I “loved” you didn’t love me. I have a neck injury, which was caused by my previous relationship which was abusive, physically. I was open and honest from the beginning, yet, because I didn’t want to orally please you, you took that as me being selfish because when I was on my period I didn’t offer to do it. I cannot move my neck in ways that are required to please a man, until my neck injury is corrected. It is not that I didn’t want to, it was that I couldn’t and if I did I would almost pass out due to the excruciating headache that accompanies me. Yet, I was the selfish one because I was physically unable to please you.

When I think of you, I would think about how I would be yelled at for not “longing for you”, but I was never given the opportunity because sex to you was like a job interview. There wasn’t a warm up. There was no foreplay, unless you were feeling really into it, which was rarely. There was no romance, which was my fault and not yours… according to you. I remember laying there and waiting for you to be finished, so that I could go to sleep because I was so exhausted. I didn’t feel desired or wanted for being your woman, I only felt wanted and desired for your sexual needs. And the worse it got with your anger and aggression about my lack of, because it was too much of a job for you to properly love your woman… it was still my fault. Even though, I explained the way I needed to be loved, in a book, and to you, over and over again. Yet, it was my fault when I was not being loved the way that I needed too, in turn not being able to love you the way you needed to be loved. IT WAS STILL MY FAULT!

When I think of you, I think about the countless times I would tell you that I didn’t like the way that you spoke to me. That I was in fact, not your child. I have a father, and we know that you are not him. I think about the times that I felt like I was never good enough with anything that I did. It was not an option to fulfil your needs without being yelled at, condescended, or badgered about something. I could do anything in the world for you, but somehow, I was not doing it good enough. I think about how I had to write the man that I loved a letter to express how I felt about his behavior becoming abusive. And I was given the silent treatment for two weeks, because you were emotionally exhausted with me. Your behavior that I was unhappy with became emotionally exhaustive to you, and in turn it was my fault because “maybe if I fucked you enough you wouldn’t take your anger out on me and you wouldn’t be so angry all the time”. My fault. 

When I think of you, I think about how we started dating in May and I didn’t allow myself to completely fall in love with you and feel it in my body until December. And I think about how once I fell for you completely and told myself that it was okay, you flipped on me and further proved why I should not have. I grieved the loss of our relationship 6 weeks before it ended it. Which is why I am not hurt, devastated, hearth broken, sad, crying. At this point I am simply angry that I still am having these thoughts or this conversation with myself. But, your words left a mark on my mind. So, I must deal with them.

When I think of you, I think of how you would need to say to me “I don’t want to talk about this right now”, as a code word for “If you don’t stop talking to me, I am going to say something really hurtful, and I don’t want to say something that I can’t take back”. And you never wanted to say it, you would just get mad and say some very hurtful things. Until, I told you to tell me when you didn’t want to talk about something so that I didn’t push too hard. Again, I took responsibility for everything. It was something that couldn’t be done on your part, because you couldn’t control your own emotions and not be hurtful any time I would bring up something that you didn’t like (anything that had to do with your behavior). Although, on a continuous basis I was told that I needed to control my emotions and not think with emotionality. All the time. It was okay for you to do, but not okay for me to do.

When I think of you, I think about how you thought you got to have an opinion about my abusive past and throw it back in my face. Or how you screamed at me about how I didn’t pay attention to the signs or red flags of someone being abusive. Well, you were right about one thing. I started paying attention, and that is why I left. You had red flags written all over you. I am very agitated as I write these words because I shouldn’t have to be writing them. I am irritated at the simple thought that someone, yet again, knew all that I went through and chose to put me through it again. And placed blame on me for everything. I grew so much in this relationship because I chose to overlook a lot of things and behaviors that pushed me to work on things within myself. And one of the biggest things I worked on was speaking up for myself and not being afraid of the repercussions. So, I stood up to you. And you told me that I was the only person who had an issue with how you spoke to me. And I am willing to bet that it is because I am the only person who had the balls to stand up to you and tell you how it made me feel. I wasn’t that afraid of you. I was afraid of you enough to not want to sleep with you.  I was afraid of you enough to walk on eggshells. But, I was not afraid of you enough to not tell you that I wasn’t being treated correctly.

When I think of you, I think of me. I think of how I put my mental health first. I think of how I put my emotional needs first. I think of how I chose to walk away from all of what was not serving me healthily. I think about how I was able to stop trying to serveyou and LOVE me instead. I think about how I spent all those days thinking of ways to make you happy and how to not piss you off and over compensate for my lack of affection, which was caused by the unsafe place you created for your “Queen”. I think about how I would rush home to get dinner ready when I was sick, or I was dealing with one of my health issues, or I was having a bad flare up with my fibromyalgia, for it to not make a difference because you “expected” your woman to cook for you. I think about how I chose to realize your selfish ways and to walk away. I think about how frustrated and annoyed I get because I sincerely tried to overlook a lot of behaviors. I tried to work on the behavior, we would have talks. For fucks sake I wrote an entire journal so that we could be on the same page. Yet, here we are. Yet, here I am. When you are in a relationship you are supposed to love and respect each other. And our relationship was as if you wanted a personal sex slave and chef. You wanted someone to respect you, but not the other way around. Only your thoughts were important or respected. Mine were not. And that is okay. But not okay for me.

When I think of you, I think of how I chose me.

When I think of you, I think of how I love me.

When I think of you, I think about my mental health.

When I think of you, I think about my self-worth.

When I think of you, I think about me.

When I think of you, I think about my sanity.

When I think of you, I think about my future husband.

When I think of you, I think about the way that I deserve to be loved.

When I think of you, I remember why I walked away… and chose me.

When I think about this relationship, I continuously think about how I could please you or make you happy. I blamed my intimacy issues on my health issues because I didn’t have the heart to tell you that you were the problem. That you weren’t turning me on. That you weren’t making me feel safe. That the more you were mad and angry about sex, the less I wanted to have sex with you. And to be honest, it took me a really long time to realize that that is what it was. But, although you could tell me that having sex with me was like having sex with someone that was going to die at any moment. I couldn’t tell you that it felt like I was in a relationship with a rapist who always wanted it their way and when they wanted it and I didn’t have a say about it. Although you were fine with telling me that I needed to get back in the gym or that I needed to wear certain heels that you found attractive. I didn’t have the heart to tell you that you weren’t too in shape yourself. That you could lose a few pounds. I didn’t have the heart to be mean to you, although you were so easily able to do it to me. And that is what is easy for you and not easy for me. But, I was told all the time that I needed to think logically about the harsh things that you said to me and not with emotionality. Being told that you didn’t think that you were able to ever talk to me the way that I needed to, was the end of the line for me. You couldn’t speak to me respectfully or be nice. And that, I am no longer going to waste my time in attempting to get you to want to respect me and all that I brought to the table.

So, as I work to not think about you, I must remind myself that I will no longer accept less than what I deserve.

You will become a distant memory.

But you have been far from my heart for a very long time now.

However, it has gone from when I think of you â€¦

… to, I remember me.