I deserve better, he said.
But don’t you love me, I pleaded
Maybe. But what do I get? He asked
Me. I wanted to say. But if I’m not good enough… Then what good does that do, right?
Will I ever be good enough? Won’t everyone deserve better? Better than a bipolar, emotional, dysfunctional mess that I am.
It didn’t matter that he pushed me emotionally to deal with my baggage till I broke. Didn’t matter that after coping with all that and my sexual abuse alone, I returned to Bangalore and him in Jan to start living when shit hit the roof. Pregnancy. Abortion. Cat died. Best friend died. Uncle died. Doesn’t matter. Without meds or therapy I crashed and went into silence. And that’s it. He had enough. He deserves better.
What about me? What do I deserve?