10-16

I woke up fresh and dehydrated from alcohol and chicken wings that burned my lips, already chapped from stress and chewing on them nervously, they're red and tender.

It's like a fever broke. I'm tired, my head hurts, but god, I feel good. I am almost Me again.

I cried again last night but it wasn't because I missed Dorian. It feels so good not to miss him. It's a feeling I thought I'd never reach, but here I am, and all I feel is a vague disgust and contempt. I'm still angry, I still lash, but it's not because I want to hear him come back. I no longer want to settle for hard words because they're words. I am not scrambling for his worthless meaningless scraps.

How does that feel, Dorian? Knowing I don't want you. You invite me over, you fickle faithless lover, and I have no compulsion to go to you. No hesitation, no memories of your hands on my body temping me. Only disgust.

But you're her problem now. She'll learn, as we all did. I wonder how she'll feel toward me, when she realizes I bled for her and wanted to warn her. She ignored it, you ignore her, and frankly, I could not care less anymore if you two spiral down and break. I hope you do.

I cried because listening to my friend speak my truth back to me both hurt and healed. It's strange to hear yourself from another perspective. To have someone you trust tell another, she has been wounded, she has been struggling, but it is good to see her growing strong again.

It's strange sometimes to know people See me and Know me and Understand me. I am so, so lucky that I have people around me who care to Understand me. That stood by me while I dragged myself and struggled for months, and who rejoice to see me standing again.

Their pride and their patience seeps into me and makes me warm and unworthy. I want to hurry forward and be myself again, so I can be strong and helpful and not have to lean, lean, on everyone. To regain control of my mouth so I do not push and snap at people who do not deserve it. I was patient and warm once too, I was calm and sensitive.

I've been broken since I met you but you took no pieces with you, and I am rebuilding. I will be more vibrant, stronger, and less inclined to fall for a fool child's bullshit.

I'm not there yet, but I'm close, and I'm so, so ready to be done with you and your mind games and the childish contempt and attitude you always seem to draw me into.

You made choices. You'll go on in life to blame others always, to excuse yourself, but you're rotten at the core, you're spoiled meat and a portrait in the attic and the Devil with a kind face.

You love, or loved me. That's the truth you'll have to accept one day. Go seek me in others, go break their shells open and sort through their yolk and leave them sticky and broken on the ground. You'll never find me and you'll never have me again. You chose that. You're the worst of all fools, trying to escape loving me. I have others who know that I am someone to love with pride and care, not fear, not distrust. You shut the door on us and I think one day you'll be hammering to come back in.

While I used wish I could watch you break down, I don't think I care anymore. You've captured yourself in your own web, and I won't be looking behind to watch you slowly desiccate.

And god, that feels so good.