All Too Unwell

Call Me Up Again

MAJOR TW: abuse (physical and psychological)

sorry I went with a very serious topic. I have never experienced physical abuse, but I consider myself an empathetic person and have written this based on other people's accounts of it. 

 "You'll regret this! I tried to tell you I'm sorry. MY GOD DO YOU JUST NOT MAKE MISTAKES? you always attacked me for everything I did because you're so fucking traumatized you don't think anyone is a good person! I didn't do anything!" Emma yells through the phone, a typical 3 am fight. I know it could wake Taylor up, but I missed her. "Please, can we talk about this in person?" I cry out, trying to make a compromise. 

"You can't invite random people into my house! I have a lot of stalkers, seriously, please try and think before you act! And Emma hurt you, over and over! And it's 3am!" Taylor yells, finally mad at me. Part of me feels betrayed or like she doesn't care about me anymore, but I deserved that. She takes my phone from the table. "I'm blocking her because this was a threat to my safety and yours. And she's a threat to your mental health," Taylor says, pointing my phone at me for face ID, searching up Emma and blocking her. 

"SHE'S SORRY! SHE'S A GOOD PERSON!" I scream, reaching for my phone as I sob violently, unable to breathe in. 

"She's hurting you. She's yelling at you at 3 am. I'm sorry for yelling, I was more frustrated with Emma than you," Taylor says. 

Emma apologized. She made me feel so important, and any time I disagreed with her she made me feel like I was betraying her. I don't want to betray her or make her hate me again. When she's a good person, she's a really good person. I haven't felt that love and validation in a romantic way since we broke up, so I'm currently trying to grab my phone. Taylor sets it aside, reaching an arm out to me. I feel fear coursing through my body as my heart thumps in my chest, echoing in my ears. I can't move or look up at Taylor.

 "I was going to give you a hug. Sweetie, I have to ask, did you think I was going to hit you?" she probes gently. Fuck. She can't know what Emma did. 

"No I don't know why I did that," I lie, tears streaming down my face. 

"Has anyone hit you before?" Taylor asks, her voice even more gentle. 

"It's fine," I say, biting my lip. "I mean, no, I don't know why I flinched, it's late, I don't know," I make up the stupidest lie. I never told Taylor about how the violence got physical. 

"Let's go to the kitchen. I'm sure we could both use some tea with honey," Taylor offers. She always manages to make me feel so guilty by being kind, even when I don't deserve it. 

"As someone with a lot of stalkers, I can't have you or anyone texting my address to anyone unless I say it's ok. That was very dangerous, and I feel like Emma is very dangerous. I don't understand you you're making the kind of decisions you are lately, can you try to tell me?" Taylor asks. 

In all honesty, I don't know why I decided to answer that call, let alone let her in. I feel so guilty for giving out Taylor's address. I don't know why I've been drinking my emotions away. I don't know why I'm ghosting people and lashing out. 

"She apologized. I don't know, she's a good person. She deserved me hearing her out," I say, the sick feeling tightening in my chest, my voice coming out more defensive then I intended it. 

"I know it's hard to cope with, but how she treated you proves the opposite. If you keep letting her in, she's going to keep hurting you. I'm blocked her and deleted her contact for your safety, because she is causing you to have suicidal thoughts," Taylor explains, her calm tone the complete opposite of mine.