TW

“I think we should break up.”

Those words rang in your ears, over and over, as if fake. But it was real.

You could only think of the nights he would find you black out drunk on the floor, nights where you wouldn’t have woken up. Nights where he would hold you as he bandaged up your cut up arms, nights where you would’ve woken up in a hospital. Days when you wouldn’t eat until he gave you food.

He had intentionally built you up, and was now unintentionally breaking you back down.