I'm the one swearing as she leaves the grocery store because she forgot to buy something -- usually, the main thing she went there to buy. And by the time I get home, I've forgotten that I've forgotten, so I swear all over again.
I don't forget you though. The lot of you. The one who played with every emotion, pulled and plucked, snapping my heartstrings. The one who liked me best with my body shoved against a wall, a hand to the throat, a fist to the face. The one who devalued every part of my mind, body, and soul. The one who ignored my absolute existence.
I'm going through life alone. And I don't want to. And it's your fault.
One day, I'll be strong enough to forgive you. The lot of you. And maybe even forget you. But until then, I'm weak, and it's your fault.
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