Fresh Blood from an Old Wound

god dammit.

I hate god but I still prayed to him for you. I begged for you. I begged him that you would care.

But you didn’t.

Or maybe you did. It’s not like you ever talked to me about your feelings, anyway. How was I to know I was hurting you?

I get it. I maybe said something you didn’t like. Maybe it was even a little mean.

But you destroyed me. You shattered my entire existence. You were my everything but you treated me like I had done nothing for you.

I did so much for you.

I knew you were hurting so I did my best to patch the wound.

I had only band-aids and you a missing limb but I still gave them to you even though my femoral artery was spewing away my life source.

You were my everything.

I held you while you sobbed and I spent hours creating things tailored just for you and your family. I spent a month of my life more at your house than at mine because I was doing my best to support you.

I did everything for you. Your brother had died and you were a mess but I still stood by you through it. I came over the day after you found his bloodied body because I knew you were going to be fucked up. I knew you. I knew you. I knew you.

But not anymore.

I went to the funeral and I hugged your mom and your grandma and I bought you dinner and your mother ice cream. I baked you a cake that took me six hours to make- twice.

I made a playlist tailored just for you. I colored you pictures. I printed out poems and highlighted the special parts- put them in a binder for your convenience.

Like I said, I did everything for you.

I still hurt for you and I still mourn for you but I wish I didn’t. I would say if I could go back I wouldn’t do those things for you but I know that’s not true. I know I was not in the wrong and I know I deserved better.

I know I deserve better.

Fuck You.

Perhaps my blood is still fresh but this wound is old. I can’t staunch the bleeding because you’re still in my mind.

You’re a parasite.

Fuck you.

You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me.