I stopped telling him when I felt hurt, disappointed, angry.
I stopped communicating with him.
I nodded, I smiled, I listened to him and I felt broken.
Accepting so much less than I deserved.
I had it coming.
I stopped writing, I stopped reading, I stopped seeing friends.
I told myself I was just tired, life was difficult.
I told myself it was just a phase.
If it wasnt in black and white, it wasnt happening.
My Agency
People always describe me as fiesty or a force to be reckoned with.
And until him, I believed I was powerful.
I believed I had agency.
I knew how to use my words.
I could fight my own corner.
I didnt take shit from anyone.
I had nothing; he could make me go silent within seconds just by a look.
I felt small around him, stupid, naive.
And my God, did I hate that look he gave me when I disappointed him.
But with him, he was it.
I put him above everyone and everything else.
I lost sight of what mattered to me, I forgot what I needed so that be happy.
If he was happy, so was I.
