Revisionist History

It’s not me, it’s you.

Now I see how I deserve to be treated. Now I see what it’s like to be my own person. Now I see why my friends and family couldn’t, wouldn’t be supportive of you in my life. Honestly, I’m in my mid-twenties and I’m at a point where I can’t be dating wildly inappropriate people anymore. It’s time for all of us to just grow the hell up.

You made me feel inadequate every step of the way, but fortunately I see now how completely deluded you were. I’ve got a lot to offer. And I think on some level you knew that. You knew you had something others wanted. You muted me so you could shine.

Did you mean to hurt me? Did you enjoy watching me unravel? Deliberate, frequent jabs at my hair, my shoes, my cooking. You showed no mercy, taking me down any way you could – persistent, patient. You mocked my defining characteristics. You decimated my quirks. You deflated me. You rendered me as directionless and insignificant as secondhand smoke in urban air.

And the jury is still out as to whether I can ever forgive you. The damage is done and I won’t let myself forget how small you made me feel.

You’ve set the bar - and the only place for me to go is up.

Coming to Terms with the Ex Files

He was yours first, I suppose.

And it doesn't matter whether you dated for 10 days or 10 years because the fact of the matter is, you beat me to it. You marked your territory before I even knew there was land to be found.

Though I envy you your history and your inextricably linked lives,  I don't envy you because you lost him. You turned your back. You let what you had wilt and decay into nothing. Well, not nothing. I found some scraps, I picked up the pieces. I spotted the stomped on seedling of a heart and nurtured it and cared for it and now it's mine. And dammit, I earned it. You don't deserve him if you couldn't figure out how to keep him yours.

He kisses me like his lips were made for mine, so I can't imagine how yours compare. I want to ask him whose lips win, but I don't, because even if he chooses me, I'd rather not turn his attention back to you for even a second.

As we get older, everyone's past becomes greater. I wish you weren't so much of his.