'Can we please talk? I need to get something off my chest, and I should have said these things a very long time ago.'

I stared at my phone, feeling anger, remorse. Angry tears rested in my eyes, no matter how hard I blinked. I threw my phone down and watched the rectangular object hit the ground. Then the silence came along with the static. I huffed, I bit my lip and tried my hardest to not cry and scream - even though I deserved to. 

The memories popped into my head: the laughs, smiles, dates, kisses. Then the nightmares of my memories appeared.

 I remember the way you would yell at me to take off the colored pigment that rested on my lips because you thought it 'would catch other guys' attention.' 

The way you would grab me by the wrist when I laughed a little too loud at another person's jokes. Or the way you would tell me I deserved what you did to me that led me to wear makeup on a daily basis along with the made up stories of why I had that busted lip. 

What more did you need to say? 

But I took your request, and we met up. But it was the way I wanted to hurt you - as you hurt me, that made me walk away from you after you smiled at me. Then again, you grabbed my shoulder and I screamed. 

Could you blame me? After what you put me through. 

I've had help with it. With the PTSD, the nightmares, the fear. 

But seeing you, oh that made me want to put you through the pain you put me through - you wouldn't even know. You won't have to deal with the flinching I do every time a person raises their hand. You won't have to deal with the fear of falling for the wrong person, again. You don't have to deal with any of it! 

Just have to pick your prey, and they won't believe the dangers because they 'love you.'

But let me tell you, nobody will ever love you the way I did. I stuck with you through everything. I stuck with you after you first hit me. I stuck with you after you lost potential memory - I even tried to relive it with you. I stuck with you and gave you a home when you walked out on yours. I gave you my love and you hurt me, purposely and solely with no intention of stopping.

I can't forgive you for it. I can't forgive myself for staying so long. 

But I saw you a few weeks ago, and you had your arm around another girl.  And you saw me kissing another boy. 

You said you were happy that I wasn't hurting me anymore, and I asked you solemnly if you would have loved me more if I didn't do anything wrong. 

And you replied, "You never did anything wrong, you were perfect. I think that's why I wanted to hurt you, so you could make more mistakes and figure out how much it hurts to love."

Coming back to this present day, I can look my person in the eyes and tell him I love him without any hesitation. And that's beautiful.

That girl I used to know? The one who would let people walk over her and love no matter what, she died. I'm not her anymore. 

Now, I'm the girl who fell in love with the guy who told me it wasn't healthy. The guy who told me that those people didn't even deserve my time - the one who can't hold my hand or kiss me without permission. 

I love him for who he is, and who he has made me into - because I am a better person now. 

And I'm not her anymore. 

I feel free now.