You told me that you had ruined me for him. You told me I would never fall in love again without the constant reminder of what we had. You told me nobody would ever love me like you did but you never even loved me at all. You told me that I could never be with anyone else, that if I ****** anyone else you would find out and I would be in trouble. You say you've never loved anyone like you loved me but your love is black and blue and I never wanted it. I have let you go but I know I can never out run that night, and I guess that's alright because I am in love. Oh my ******* God, I am so in love. He meets me at the bridge. He meets me at the bridge and he doesn't even have to think twice about it. I feel that you have ruined me but he still manages to find a light in my eyes. I have to thank you for everything you did because if you hadn't left me on that bridge, God knows where I would be today. I would like to be able to say that this is my last poem about you but we both know that isn't true because for some reason addressing you in this way makes me feel better. In person I can't even hear your name without being reduced to a quivering leaf but when it comes to words, I am finally in charge. I have control over what happens here and you cannot hurt me. I could say a lot of things about you. I could say that you hit me, that you used to try and get me drunk so I wouldn't put up a fight, I could say that you ***** me, I could say that you cheated on me, I could say that you manipulated me, I could say that you tortured me. And while all of these things are more true than I would like, the worst thing you ever did was make me believe that I didn't matter. But you know what? I ******* matter. My therapist says I stayed with you as long as I did because I had Stockholm syndrome and you even said so yourself, that I only wanted to love you because you hurt me so badly and I thought I could save you. But, you know what? Consent is important. Safe words are important. Love is important. I am important.