Because he knew everything about me. Every secret, every hair on my head, every pet peeve of mine and every curve of my body. He knew me…and he knew how to destroy me. First he started with what he saw on the outside.. my body…made his bad eating habits mine. Then he moved on to my mind…manipulated me and made me turn on people I loved. Lastly, he toyed with my emotions. He crawled under my skin and broke through. Every word he said was like another blow to my fragile body. Each time left another bruise. But those bruises didn’t completely heal. Those bruises turned into scars. No, they’re not visible because they are not on my skin, but they are visible through the way I live my life now. My wall is 50 feet high with an entire list of excuses piled in front of the door. I want so badly to start to clean up, move on, but I’m scared. I’m scared of what I might come across as I clean through that pile and break that wall down a little bit. I opened my door to someone once before, maybe a little too wide, and I don’t know when I want to do that again.
i think there should be a socially accepted protocol where after you finish schooling you get a year off from life just to lay around in pyjamas and read all the books you never had the time to. no pants, no responsibilities, just books and breakfast foods for a whole year.