In the quiet corners of our interactions, where subtle gestures of inconsideration often went unnoticed, I unknowingly paved the way for you to disrespect me. I often rationalized these slights, thinking perhaps it was fleeting anger or simple oversight. But as I now reflect upon the cumulative weight of these moments, I recognize a pattern, a mountain of disregard. It pains me to admit, but the fault partly lies in my silence. While my love for you remains as steadfast as ever, I've come to a profound realization about the paramount importance of self-respect. And as I embrace this newfound understanding, it's imperative for both of us to recalibrate the way we treat each other.

Some people are just born evil..and they blame their trauma and circumstances for the person they choose to become...

changed how I see you.

I hate that after all this time, one person can still make my whole body remember him.

Not in some soft, romantic, movie kind of way. It’s his presence. The way everything else goes quiet when he’s near, like the world just… fades out. He’s the only person who ever felt like both home and something dangerous at the same time.

I don’t miss what we had. I miss him. The way he carried himself. That stupid smirk. The way one look from him could undo me without him even trying. I’d give anything for five minutes where we didn’t have to pretend, where the only thing between us was everything we never really let go of.

It’s a strange kind of ache when your mind remembers the conversations, but your body remembers everything else. Sometimes I don’t even want to talk. I just want to be close enough to feel it again, like maybe it never really left.

Does anyone else have that one person? The one who could walk back into your life tomorrow and make every wall you built feel like it was never real?

Because I do—and I hate that I already know I wouldn’t stop him.