Letters To The Boys In My Life: Updated

Tuesday, October 09, 2018

I’m currently the age you were when I first met you. We’re both polar opposites. I’ve done everything in my power to unlearn what you taught me. It’s not that you were bad. But you were the first toxic presence I ever met. Your rage was my first fear. You ruined love for me. Caused me to spend my whole life running away from it. You did your best. You just didn’t know any better. I’m sorry I wasn’t what you expected me to be.

You hated me from the moment I was born. Said your friends would make fun of me because I exist. I never had a fighting chance with you. I wasn’t smart enough, pretty enough or worthwhile enough. You were the first person to teach me what worthless meant. Like a rain cloud it hung over me my entire life. Some days when I wake up foggy and half asleep, I remember you were the first person to not want me, minutes after I was born. That set a pattern for every man after you.

We were platonic soulmates, or so you said. During my darkest moments you were my rock. I thought it was going to be us against the world. We always said forever. But distance stole our youth and molded us differently until we didn’t fit together. I shouldn’t hate you. But I do. You were my biggest disappointment. You let go, I tried to stay. You taught me no matter how hard you hold onto a rope, it’ll still slip out of grasp.
We didn’t fit together. I had to learn to be okay with that.

When I met you, I didn’t want to live. At nineteen the world broke me, dug a hole and left me for dead. You took a broken girl, gave her alcohol for the heartbreaks. Food to feed her soul. And concerts to remind her why she was alive. For that, I am eternally grateful. My Holiday From Real in human form.

Kiddo, you gotta put yourself first. Your hearts in the right place, supporting broken girls will only break you. Go experience the world, reinvent yourself. You’re so young and naive. There’s freedom in that. You don’t need to be responsible for the world. Be a little reckless, it’s good for the soul.

You used to be #10. I wanted to not put you in here. But you’re so crucial to my story. Even if all you did was break me beyond repair. I grew up around selfish assholes who only took and took until they sucked you dry. Maybe that’s why I gravitated to you, you felt like home. No matter how sick and twisted it was. You matched my definition of love. Rightfully we didn’t work. But you still broke me until my very being ached.
You got off on using me to boost your own ego. I was your drunken secret. Target practice for all your anger. I found comfort in your rage, even if I ended up on the bathroom floor crying. You made me feel worthless, kicked my mental health to zero, and caused me to look for comfort in temporary people.
You were the last person I trusted. But you’d constantly burn me. My secrets were plastered around. I was needy, never enough, stupid and boring.
As far as I’m convinced you’re a hedonistic asshole.
But you showed me what I never want again.

I almost feel like you don’t belong on this list because you’re so different from everyone else. You’re the exact opposite of #6. God you’re so different from everything I’ve been exposed to. 
You’re sweet, genuine, witty, clever, you almost don’t feel real. I’ve never found safety in anything. But somehow I found bits of it with you. 
I wish I wasn’t broken for you. I desperately wish my past didn’t make me seem cold, needy, cut off, or desperate. I wish I could be softer and get things right. 
I don’t know how to say that there’s sides of me I blocked off from the world. But for you, I want to be vulnerable. I want you to have everything I can offer. Even if I get burned. I blindly trust you in ways I’ve never imagined. 

I don’t know how to be small for you. I know you’d never ask me to. But this is all alien territory to me. And I don’t think I’m doing any of it right.

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