It’s been five years since we broke up. I certainly don’t love you but I still damaged from what we had.
On New Year’s Eve 6 years ago I attempted suicide.
I knocked back every pain killer and tablet I could get my hands on and downed them with straight spirits. I can’t remember texting you, I kept dozing in and out of consciousness.
When I finally came around I managed to let you in. I can’t remember if you were angry or worried it’s so long ago and at the time I could barely see or think.
I remember you said you almost smashed the door in and then went and slept in your car. What did I expect you to do? I have no idea but I know that if someone I loved deeply… my brother or sister. If they had been in my situation I would have called the police, an ambulance or my mother.
Anyway I was glad you arrived, you stayed with me, you stroked my hair which was nice. I was so sick from the overdose I was retching, but that didn’t put you off having intercourse with me.
I had just attempted suicide and you wanted sexual pleasure from me. The sickness and the retching got worse I really thought I was going to die.
You went home and left me, you didn’t tell anyone not even my mum.
You were my boyfriend the man who claimed to love me.
You left me in a frightful mess.
All I wanted was to sleep and never wake up.
I was scared of death, and you left me all alone lying down in my own vomit.