You Tried To Break Me, But You Made Me Stronger

I was madly and chaotically in love with you. Charmed by your every move.

I fearlessly fell into love and abandoned all traces of sanity along the way.

I trusted you. Though more than anything, I wanted to love you. Deeply.

I believed you were more than I had ever wanted, an enchanting fairytale, a far-fetched dream, a mesmerising wish-come-true.

I was naïve when we met, though, and I was hopelessly treacherous with my heart.

I am wild. Fearless. Free. And you couldn’t handle that.

You wanted us to fit into a pretty box and be carefully bound with ribbons, so our love would be safe. Secure. Captured.

But, safety has never interested me. I live on the edge, and although it is precarious the exhilarating view leaves me breathless. I was not willing to fall victim and suffocate, caught up in your plan.

I frustrated you, so you desperately wanted me to fall—hard. And it had nothing to do with love.

My courage petrified you. My careless spirit was a threat. It made you question yourself. Our differences tore at you and left you bewildered.

I was a challenge. A puzzle you wanted to smash.

Our love became a bitter game that neither of us could win.

Like a powerful magnet you pushed me away or you pulled me in tight, we never could find a balance.

Because you did not understand me, you feared me. So you believed your only option was to bring me down. Painfully.

You thought that if you pushed hard enough, I would lose my grip, stumble, free fall, land and break. Crack. Crumble. Be shot to pieces so you could sweep me up and place me under an old dusty rug.

So I could be forgotten. So I could never be free.

Your love became a weapon for internal destruction—your target was my soul, you wanted it stored in a crackled glass jar so you could dissect it and find what was missing in you.

I thought if I loved you madly enough you would see there was no need to clip my wings. I didn’t want to fly anywhere.

My God, I was wrong.

You were cold on the inside. You believed you could tear me open, steal my glow and the radiation would warm your bones.

You didn’t care for me. You cared for you.

It took me a while to recognise that I was a mystery to you, and one you seemed to despise.

Your words cut me deep, they still resound, but your inability to love yourself wounded me more.

You didn’t destroy me when you tore me apart.

I trembled, I shook, I paused for too long.

But, I eventually leaped and stretched out my wings and finally learned how to fly.

I would have died had I stayed a moment longer.

In trying to break me, you made me stronger.

I can now smile at the damage you caused, but only because it shows me how far I have flown.

The nightmares have ceased, the haunting has gone, all that is left are the whispers of a love that was lost.

I am not angry.

I am grateful.

You helped me to see I was strong, and that I had courage.

I am who I am not because of who you are—because I found the strength to step off the edge, to never look back, to trust in myself, and the sense to never return.

I unchained my wings, fluttered a little, inhaled and remembered I was delicate and sensitive, though tough and wild. I need to be free and though you were intoxicating, seductive and charming, you were devastating too, and I could never allow you to destruct or destroy me.

You were a dangerous path I needed to cross. A tragic and torturous carousel wheel that finally came to a stop.

In trying to break me, you made yourself weaker. And despite your venom and anger, you made me stronger.

I thought you should know, your curses and spells dramatically failed.

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Writing: Alex Myles

Main Image pixabay BlackDog1966

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  1. Ouch… So much ouch in this 😭

  2. Lorene says:

    I could have written this! I was so totally in love with Larry, but he could not tame me. I tried to be submissive, but it was not good enough for him. He physically beat me once and then told me that I would never make him do that to me again. What took its place was worse. I worked for him, at his insistence, but he turned his staff against me and took their side. Any attempts to take a leave even for a while got this response, “I was just going to say let’s make it legal, and you f-ed it up.” So much more to this story, but to sum it up, I did finally find myself again and I left him. When his health was deteriorating, I offered to move back in and take care of him… knowing full well what I could be giving up. He told me “no,” that I wouldn’t be coming back for the right reasons. I walked out of his house and never offered again. We ended our relationship in 1998; he died in 2005. I will never forget all that he did teach me about health and accepting responsibility for myself, which is the main reason, I am still on this planet…

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