‘Crazy’ in love

I was the victim of a lockdown love-bomb. Blinded by nostalgia when in reality our ‘love’ story was a joke. I hate myself, I hate you, I hate what you’ve done to me physically and verbally for years. Narcissist. All the things you promised you wouldn’t do, you did them. All the things you promised you would do, you didn’t do them. I don’t even recognise myself anymore. The trauma bleeds all over my face and body it’s looks disgusting. All of your exes were ‘crazy’? I should have known.

I’ve had a story published in your book before and when I read back at it I laugh and cry, embarrassed that I thought it was love. Maybe that was just the hopeless romantic in me? There’s a fine line between love and hate and we crossed it too many times over. What made you hate me so deeply?

He’s gone now, the house is empty of his belongings but I don’t feel empty, I feel free…I feel alive again. I feel like blasting Lana Del Rey as loud as I can and dancing around the house. Screaming as loud as I can. Maybe a good few years of therapy will help? Maybe the panic attacks will stop now? Maybe I am fucking crazy. But I am free.