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You left me with scars, the kind the eyes couldn't see but only the heart could feel. The words you used to weaponize me, the isolation you used to punish me. Every compromise i made felt like shrinking, and every apology felt like surrendering. I was losing myself in the process of trying to help you find yourself. I felt your pain and the weight of your loss; I tried my hardest to save you from it all, but your excuse was that you didn't want to turn into me. You were running from accountability, vulnerability, and the chance to be real. You thrived in chaos and control, and hurting me somehow made you feel superior. Your temporary strength was my constant struggle. I feared losing you because I thought you were my canvas to shape. I didn't know I was signing up for a project that wasn't mine to work on. My soft heart didn't deserve you holding it; you crumbled it, fumbled, and completely broke it. You allowed me to give you the best parts of me when vou knew you didnt really care...