This piece was written in the aftermath of a very tumultuous and abusive relationship. It was when I stopped loving this individual after the breakup and stopped self-sabotaging.

I saw your picture today. Back in July, it would have made me cry. But September has come to a close, and November is nearly halfway done. I don’t think about you as a person. I think about what you represented to me.

I think about all the times you were a perfect partner, and I have to remind myself of all of the times you made me feel like I was never doing enough for you.

All the times I held your hand, dried your tears and had to uplift you when you were down. Yet, when I needed it was so convenient to just ignore when I was in a deep, dark hole.

I have to think of all the abuse that I endured because of your trauma. It is as if your trauma justified me being on the receiving end of your abuse.

I am slowly clawing myself out of that hole. Every day is a struggle, and sometimes I think about you when I am driving on the highway. I envisage you sitting in the passenger seat and us talking about the stupid **** that we talked about.

I imagine us chilling by the pool and drinking champagne together. I imagine all of these moments that I know will never happen with you.

I wish I could say that I am over you. Truth be told, it’s not the case. I miss you, but I also don’t miss you and your actions. I don’t miss the lack of effort or the lack of reciprocation. But I miss your touch and how you made me feel.

I guess it’s better than a few months prior, when I nearly succeeded in ending my life because of the way you chose to exit. I don’t regret my choice of being with you, but I regret making so much of an investment in you.