A letter from March 12th, 2023

There are days I know her. Days where the stories she tells me make sense. She is beautiful and she is unconditional and she makes you feel pretty and soft and safe. She makes you feel so safe. There are moments she encompasses you, making your skin warm to the touch. Moments where she is everything, and you are on top of the world. Surely she isn’t real? Too perfect, too sweet for planet earth. Then there are moments where she rips the clothing off your back and leaves you cold and wet outside, far from home. Days where she rolls her eyes so far back into her skull it makes you nauseous. She is ugly, she is rude, she makes you question how someone so vile can exist. Surely she can’t exist. How could she exist? I loved her, I still do I think?