Favouritism

Content warning: sexual violence, emotional abuse, self-harm, childhood sexual abuse

I stared into your eyes like they gave me life. I craved your attention like I’d die without it. Your fingers explored the inside of me with such passion, or vigour as it turns out. I remember how I bled after you left, I bled with confidence and I bled with pride, I bled like bleeding made everything alright. I thought that’s how it was meant to feel, so I thought I liked it. But I didn’t. I was moulded into what you wanted me to be, you taught me to accept what you wanted me to accept. You got away with it so well, wrapping your lies in the stickiest honey and the sweetest sugar. I was none the wiser, and I asked if you liked me better than the rest. You said you loved me. You were the first person to say you love me that way. You weren’t the first to hurt me though, and you knew that.

You feigned kindness, love and adoration so I would trust you, and then like a snake you shed your skin, revealing your true form. You said I’d be safe, but you hurt me more than anyone. What’s a 17 year old doing with a 15 year old anyway? What’s a 17 year old doing with multiple 15 year olds? That’s what I should’ve asked, but I was blinded by the idea of happiness, of someone wanting me. You didn’t want anything from me that wasn’t in between my legs though, and when you couldn’t get it you became cold, distant, mean, abusive. Your words cut deeper than the blades and the glass I used to remind myself that I can feel more than what you made me feel.

I should’ve listened to everyone telling me that you didn’t really like me, but oh how I wanted you to. I had never heard the words “I love you” said to me by anyone other than family, but they rolled off your tongue so smoothly like it was destiny. Our foreheads touched and to this day I have never felt a stronger connection. You were everything I dreamed of. Soon I learned that this dream was my worst nightmare.

I remember you saying that you wanted to grow your hair out. Well it’s long now, isn’t it? Longer than mine, longer than every girl you fucked over combined. You siphoned our energy, our happiness, our peace. You took everything away from me. You took away my ability to love, to trust, to crave the skin of another. I still cry about it, you know. I cry as if it just happened. You broke me. You told me that we were soulmates, that I wasn’t in danger when we were together. I remember how I said: “I can’t believe you like me better than the rest” and I was right. I shouldn’t have believed it because you didn’t. You didn’t even like me at all.