it's dark.

It’s dark here. I open my eyes and I still can’t see anything.

All that is left is in my imagination. Your love lighting the way.

I recall those moments when I was down, and just needed someone to hold me.

The way you used to hold me so close to you, while I cried.

It’s been a while since I’ve cried like that.

Or when I would be afraid and you would just grab my arm and give me a kiss on the cheek.

I don’t even remember the last time I kissed someone I cared for.

Intimacy doesn’t scare me. It frightens me.

It is a result of self-hate, body image issues, doubt, and fear.

You probably don’t remember, but you made me smile.

You also didn’t know how much I talked about you to everyone.

They knew of your existence before I knew of your pain.

Do you remember yelling at me?

I feel so stupid. I told myself no one would ever talk to me like that.

Yet I let you.

More than once.

Do you remember the time you would squeeze my arm in disagreement.

And here I thought your jealousy was your way of telling me you loved me.

I was so naïve. You’d tell me what to do and I followed without objection.

I don’t blame you.

I thought it was my fault.

I was the one who messed up.

To this day, people still blame me.

No—I won’t tolerate the guilt anymore.

Yes I did wrong. But I never abused of you.

My lack of tears are no less valid than the ones on your face.

We were lovers, but you were also my enemy.

To this day, I am recovering from the darkness you put me through.