Haunted

Just when I thought I’d shaken the ghost that haunts me. He comes back. He doesn’t even know he’s there, following in my shadow. I’m haunted by the one thing that used to protect me.

I never felt good enough for him. It was fun at the beginning, the secret meet ups, the afternoons spent discovering each other. I wish I knew then that he was some kind of narcissist. He never loved me. Loved the idea of being loved.

But when you think you’ve met your soul mate, you’ll believe anything. You’ll believe every word he tells you, because you’re bound by his word, his charm. Until something makes you question it. A simple comment. One designed to undermine every feeling you ever had for him. One to tell you, I’m the boss, and I’ll do the fuck what I tell you.

The first time, he said to me, I think you’ve gotten to close. How could I not? How could I give my energy, my heart to someone I didn’t adore? Clearly, he didn’t adore me. I was just someone to play with, a toy, something to ease the frustration from being so deeply unhappy. Add that to the other comment, men will sleep with anything. Wow, you do some much for my self esteem. Why don’t you just rate me on a scale of 1 to 10? Put the result next to my name on your little black book of women you fuck when you’re desperate.

Because that’s how you made me feel. You made me feel like a second hand prize. Someone you settled for because you couldn’t have the winner. So took what you could get and you took everything. You took my heart, the only thing I have. And you didn’t just smash it to pieces, made sure you ripped it to shreds with your bare hands. Revelling in the blood.

You might have damaged me, you might have tried to destroyed me. But you never came back to see the destruction you’d caused. I’m still here. Even though I still love you. You might haunt me. But you’re a ghost. You’re nothing. I gave you everything and you threw it all back, you thought you’d take me down. You thought wrong. You’re the ghost and I’m the exorcist.