Someone told you this, but you didn't listen. Marriage doesn't work when you're too young to understand the difference between love and obsession, when you think you're in a fairy tale.

An angel on earth. That's what you said about her when you visited your parents in the countryside and your mother noticed how different you looked, in love. Love, eating you up inside, only to kill you in the end—like a worm gnawing at the flesh of your corpse.

Together, living in the same house, sleeping in the same bed—her daughter became your daughter, but five years is too long to continue believing in fairy tales. Everything that starts fast, ends fast.

Treating you badly, putting you down, making you feel like you had to obey her—because she was the oldest, she knew better than you. Victoria, what did you do to someone you claimed to love?

The divorce would've been fine if she had really let you go, but she couldn't, wouldn't acknowledge that she had wronged you—always putting you last on her list of priorities.

Suddenly, she wasn't the same centered woman you saw on TV preaching something she didn't even believe in. How ironic, you used to say she was the love of your life, now she's just throwing shots and watch them ricochet.

Her words came out every time a little more bitter, even though she was using her arrogant conviction to say them. Deep down, she just wanted you to shut up, to stop messing up her life with everything you could say, but she was the one who was messing up yours.

Your youth, your innocence, all lost. But, Victoria still acted like that wasn't even the least of what you could've given her. You gave her everything that you couldn't afford to lose.

Where are you? I'm at your door, I brought your things.

Two messages were few compared to the thousands of times she called you—not 'cause she had something to say, but 'cause she was waiting for you to say something.

Can you act like a normal person for once in your life and open the door?