He reminds me that if I am happy it is because he is letting me
“Don’t you forget whose shoulders carried all your baggage and who you called at three am. Don’t you dare forget loving me kept your demons at bay, I did that for you.”
I wonder how much more of me would exist if I did not give pieces of myself to boys who wanted to play god.
I wonder why I let them
What I should have told him was this happiness is mine, how dare he try to put his name on it
I put in the blood, sweat, and tears
I spent weeks drowning in isolation
I called the hotlines
His hero complex is not my problem and I am done existing for the sake of validation
I am happy and it is all mine, it is not yours to claim like a lost child or a reward.