So i finally left the scripted message on his phone. He now has till 9am to call me back with a time I can have all of my things back and he will get his electronics back. (Hopefully he can trust the chick he just met to hold onto them until he can have them in his home again)

I also proceeded to say that if he has not given me a time by 9am then his bag of 3 laptops, am iphone, iPad and Apple tv will be left on his doorstep whenever I put it there. So hopefully nobody steals it or notices that those ate not supposed to be on his property. 

I said that I need to be able to have a possibility of one day not sitting alone in my room waiting for his caller ID. To hear his calming voice that once gave me a reason to stay sober, and go to appointments. 

He has said that I'm the only reason he's alive. I payed his rent with my body until the resume I made him and applied to jobs for him got him a job.  I held him while he cried and told me that he loved another girl but they both fucked others. He told me how he pretended I was her, or just fucked like a robot. I ran my fingers through his hair so he stopped crying and slept why I sobbed silently. 

I still tried to convince myself he would be truthful this time and lost it when I was right all along. I reminded him as he said he lied because my reactions; that he has never told the truth and given me a chance to show him that I may be disappointed but as long as he is forthcoming.  I'd fucking help him hide a body.

How he made me feel like a was gross and ugly and worthless because he didn't want to tell me he stopped fucking me because he no longer wanted to lead me on.

How after he raged because a friend bailed on me he told me a chick was coming to chill. But forgot to mention that I was expected to listen to them fuck through paper thin walls 2 days after I told him that I loved him and would be his rock always.

That he forced me sober, but got mad when the detox off meth cold turkey while fucking men for his rent made me irrational.  That it made me feel disgusting because I only wanted him.

That he told me if I lied I'd be kicked out and if I relapsed I would too, but never actually let me talk about shit because he was stressed. 

Because any guy that messaged me on a dating site was "just a creep" and I should "respect myself more". Or that those holes aren't free. But also commenting how stupid guys are who want to fuck 'escorts bareback' eventho he never uses a condom and has fucked more girls who had escorted and abused drugs than anyone I know.

That I was only worth complimenting when I spent 2 hours on my makeup and was skinny from not eating.

But I'm not allowed to get high, drink, cut... I just have to be perfect but never enough. 

I know he was really abusive and manipulative but I love him so much more than anything. The side I saw before this, the one he shows to the girls who aren't in love with him... He once cared for too many... he's 39 and I see it in his face and stories and when he snaps at anyone who disrespects me. I saw it when he let me sleep in his bed and would comfort my screaming self cutting nightmares. How he knows saying cotton candy ice cream to me before it gets bad will stop my dream. How when I had almost killed myself in his spare room with his belt and a noose... He didn't know if he should try to bring me back and risk me being brain dead. Then he felt warmth in my body still and I remember violent vibrating as he screamed and cried while trying to get the mess that was strangling me off of my throat and when he did he started for and when I coughed and groaned he held me on the floor and weeped. How when he got me to drunk so if fuck a chick I hated, but it really was to drunk and he had to pull in into the shower ontop of him to help me sober, and hold my head for hours so I didn't drown in my puke. That h3 just say there with me in his lap, and the phone ready for 911. And the next day he apologized over and over and kept me warm and full and safe.

Other than my family, he's the only other person who can be in the same house as me and I'll still fall asleep.  He has forced me to sleep next to him and forced me to eat so I didn't drive after being awake for a week on meth and almost never eating.

He is the worst and the best, he doesn't understand that I am waiting for DBT to make me capable of letting him go but since he has left, but is keeping me around as a back up... I am using again, having riskier sex than I ever have, that I've been self harming at work and after being sick from meth for days... I noticed the first self harm cut that became infected since I started when I was 8. I'm 21 now.

And because I wasn't able to step off the log when I was ready to die... not because I was afraid to die, but because all I could see in my mind was my family and dog and my newish job that loves me.

But if I just left the infection, maybe added lines of cuts to help spread it faster.... That is a lot easier to let happen... and a lot harder to Stop. 

He didn't pick up 3 nights ago when I begged him just to help me fight for a few more months so I could get help to fight for myaelf.... After 2 years of leading me on and breaking my heart... I deserve at least 3 months. 

"I never asked you to help me",
But you didn't leave me a choice. I am unfortunately in love with you, all of you. Your faults and weakness. I feel your pain as mine and I would gladly take an eternity of that if you could have her for one lifetime. 
The fact that you didn't ask, but I still did what you needed without you needing to specify, shows what kind of selflessness even I can display. 

The fact that you cried over friends that were never true friends and abandonded you when you needed them. But would rather make more that will never be able to know you for you, and ignore the begging for help of a girl who gave you the last amount of herself that would ever be.

Well fuck. 
Even if I don't make it, 
I am so glad I gave my heart to people and put my everything into helping them recover from addiction or prostitution, or abuse, or losing everything because of a mistake. Because at least I know that I am only loved for something that isn't even close to what I am. But am known for my good, and my awful.

I was open and true and raw and could nuke my surroundings in seconds or make them grow lush with life. Just a roll of the die to figure out which.

I live life as myself, a disaster that could also do good.

You lived as a shell of nothing real, and in turn never felt alive.