I Don't Feel Bad

There is a man that will never be privileged enough to be worthy of these pages.

If there was one line dedicated to him, that would be the only one. But the scars he left are offered an honorary mention.

My skin is still bruised from the verbal beating it would take in every other word. I was a punching bag, gaslighting and the insult slut were his favorite combo to throw. I have been worn down and weakened, suspended on chains that once refused to break. I could take it.

I still flinch though.

Apologies bandaged the areas where my stitching was coming loose. I overextended every inch of me. Being torn apart right down the middle, I was being undone from the lack of care I was given, but was always offered a quick fix when I needed it. Addicted to the idea of what I thought we could be, but never seeing it come to life. I had faith in all the wrong promises.

I was invaded by love bombs that broke every barrier of protection I continuously rebuilt. My hurt still showed it's face but was ignored as if nothing had ever happened, forcing me into blurred submission, making me feel like I was the crazy one. My feelings were shoved in a corner, but that is not the only part of me that was buried.

Passion of the pen, love for literature, fellowship with friends, all these things no longer belonged to me. Not even my own body. They were swept under the rug, constantly stepped on, and isolated me from being free. The tension never eased and I was always on edge, sneaking around trying to get a hit from the pieces of me that felt dead. It was my secret drug.

I let your words come out of my mouth over and over again, I was your trophy puppet, always on display repeating whatever you wanted me to say.

"I don't abuse you. You're just sensitive. I didn't rape you. I'll never hurt you again. I love you so much but you don't need that pen, all you need is me. I can save you from your sin. God won't love you unless you listen to me, he told me that we were meant to be."

The lies you fed to others unfortunately were not convincing as they all told me to run in the opposite direction. Year after year I let you win, until I opened the Bible for myself and truly let Jesus in.

Salvation called my name and I went running for it.

I shed my old skin and was reborn. This new life, I vowed, would be without you. You would be so absent that even the air felt new. I hope when you see me around, with all that you were never meant to have, you'll know that I don't,

not even in the slightest,

feel bad.