Being The Bad Guy

There are moments in our lives, the really deep shit, that shake the very core of our being. Ultimately, time determines if those moments make you a better or worse person. If you allow yourself time to heal, time to understand the cause of your pain and time to trust again, then the things that hurt you make you better. But, if you don't give yourself the time, you just go on hurting - hurting yourself, the people you love, the people around you. You spread bad, not goodness, and that's such a fucking horrible way to live.

When I met you, I knew you were hurt, I sensed it. But I only loved you the more for it, because I thought - finally, someone who I could one day pour my heart out to and feel understood. I should never have let you get away with the things you did to me. I thought that if I didn't expect anything in return from you, then I was exuding pure love. I felt so exalted in the fact that I was the only one in this transaction who was losing out. I felt like some sort of martyr because I just let you be you at my expense. 

My sense of grandiosity has turned you into a horrible person. You have no values, know no right or wrong, no care for anyone but yourself. I can't find it in myself to think you were always like this, because then it puts my sense of judgement in question. All I can say conclusively is that if I had put my foot down and broken things off when both of us still felt, you would have still valued the power of emotions. That beautiful thing we had could have gone on existing as what-ifs in dreams and drunken nights. Instead, my love has become this hideous, black ooze, consuming everything good in you. 

I have ruined you, and I am so so sorry for that.