I wish you would change. You were so amazing at the beginning. You were nice. Respectful. You didn’t treat me like this. You didn’t talk down to me. You didn’t make me cry. You didn’t make me mad. You didn’t humiliate me. You didn’t make me hate myself. But now you do.

I wish you didn’t make me feel like a failure. An embarrassment. A horrible girlfriend. A horrible mom. A horrible friend. I wish you didn’t make me feel stupid. Crazy. Insecure.

I wish you didn’t flirt with girls in front of me. I wish you didn’t do things out of spite. I wish you didn’t hurt me in order to feel better about yourself.

I wish you loved me like I love you. I wish you were nice. I wish you were kind. And soft. And everything I thought you were in the beginning. I wish you didn’t tell me I ruin your life. I wish you didn’t tell me your exes are better than me. That they made you happier. That they loved you better.

I wish you didn’t downplay my sobriety. I wish you didn’t say you want to die. I wish you didn’t make fun of my mental health. I wish you didn’t flirt with my friends and sisters.

I wish you did for me like you did them. Fix my car like you did my sisters. Be nice to me like you were to my friends. Help me like you do my stepmom. Ask me how my day was like you do D’s. I wish you spoke to me like you do her. I wish I was irreplaceable like she is. I wish I was chosen over her.

I wish you didn’t throw food at me. Ball up your fists like you’re gonna hit me. I wish you didn’t throw my stuff. I wish you didn’t make me cry myself to sleep. I wish you didn’t have sex with me and then not touch me again. I wish you respected me. Cared for me.

But most importantly, I wish you loved me.