You hurt me. You may not fully understand how much you hurt me or how many times, but you did. I tried forgiving, forgetting and moving on, but every time you showed me that it wasn't worth it. You kept repeating the same mistakes over and over again, and to make the matter worse you made new mistakes, worse than the previous ones. Did it ever cross your mind that you might come to lose me? They may take whatever crap you throw their way. They're going to say that they won't take it anymore, that they've had enough, but they will always try to see the best in you, and there will always be a place for you in their home and their hearts. They willl love you no matter what you do, no matter how you hurt them, that's because they're your parents. But I, I'm not your parent, I don't feel that way towards you. There's a limit for how many times you may hurt me, and for how many times I will let you back into my heart. And you've exceeded it.
People think that i'm just being childish, or heartless or even unforgiving. But they don't know what happened that day. They think I just lost my mind for a brief moment. They don't even know what caused that reaction from me. They don't know what I was feeling, how the walls were closing in on me, how petrified i was, how much panic I felt. They don't realize what it is like to have someone bring one of your greatest fears right to your face. Just because it is so fun to taunt you.
You had been messing with my life in several ways, and I had been taking it for years, and I was quite fed up with it. But when you started messing with my mental stability, YOU CROSSED THE LINE.
It's kinda funny how you think that I'm just really mad at you or going through some phase. How you can't see that you're dead to me. Actually you're not, you're alive, I see you everyday. You're a ghost from my past, a shadow of all the bad, of all the hurt, but I will not let you haunt me. So you can either fade away with time, or continue trying to haunt me. Either way, you're nothing to me. But a bad memory.
