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i opened up old wounds.

reading that probably makes you think "oh no, they've hurt themselves."
"oh no, not the knife. the blade. the scissors."
these are not the wounds i am talking about.

i am talking about the wounds that are invisible, but have that heavy and unchanging hold over you.
wounds that are so damaging, even when a little slips through it feels like the world crashes. it feels like mine is.

i messaged him, and i told him goodbye. i told him i needed closure, something i never got in how we faded from each other. i tell him i might not make it. i tell him goodnight.

"don't you dare give up."

it's the first words he sends me. i stupidly reply, thinking that we can maybe fix things and be okay. but then i remember. i remember how he got inside my head so easily. i remember how worthless he made me feel when i finally found love. i remember how quick he turned against me and used my worst fears like knives that were plunged into my chest.

i panicked. i broke down.
i deleted social medias he could contact me on. i blocked sites and gave the permissions to change it only to my partner. he'll know not to give them to me.

maybe i made the wrong choice, but i'd rather think and wonder if i was right in doing this rather than crying over him and his words again. i can't take it, i can't do it.

i'm choosing myself. and i never knew it would be so hard.

i never knew how painful it can be.