After everything,

I feel lighter.

I'm still couch hopping, my parents are still split, I'm still picking up the pieces of a life twice shattered

But without you in it? Without the fear of you blaming me for everything? Without the fear of you hating me? Without worrying if you're okay? Without blaming myself for all the bullshit you put me through?

I feel fucking good.

I'm not carrying the burden of undeserved apologies from me and unreceived apologies from you.
I'm not carrying the burden of a failed relationship. Of someone who did nothing but take me for granted.

And if you're still reading my blog, like you probably are,

Stop.

You don't get to "check in on me" if you want us out of each other's lives. You don't have the right to care. To be concerned.

Deal with your own shit.

Leave me and mine alone.

I'm done. I'm done checking your shit. I'm done worrying about you. I'm done feeling guilty. I'm done feeling sorry. I'm done covering for the fucked up shit you did. I'm done making excuses for you.

You fucked up.

I'm not gonna sprint to your side at the sign of trouble anymore, like I know you'd expect me to. You'll swear up and down that you don't, but I know you fucking do because you think you know me. You think you have me on a string.

You don't.

You don't need a safety net, you said.

And I'm glad, because that shows growth as a person.

And because you won't find one in me.

Goodbye.
Maybe I'll see you again.
Maybe I won't.