Fairytales it turns out;
aren’t real.
I guess that’s why they’re called fairytales;
And I should really blame Disney for making me believe that gross men can be saved.
All it takes is years of psychological abuse and they’ll eventually come around,
Right?
At least that’s what you tried to make me believe.
Did you think that I didn’t know you well enough to know your patterns?
Your love bombing and I’ll change and then you just do it behind my back and rationalize it.
Such a pity.
Does the aftertaste of me leaving you high and dry still burn in your mouth?
Does my happiness with someone else incinerate holes in your chest?
Good;
But your silent suffering is not my burden to bare.
In an alternate universe you would’ve changed long ago;
And I wouldn’t have rebelled like a teenager who couldn’t control her emotions-
Punishing you with actions that didn’t always fit the crime but yours never did either did they?
Turns out;
My leaving was for the best for me anyways.
Because fairy tales aren’t real and women can’t turn monsters into men so;
I hope the next woman makes it out alive.
Because I almost didn’t.
