This decision took a while to make. When you first crept into my life so long ago, we were riding on a high that couldn’t be beat. I remember thinking, “You mean I can eat that and still be thin?” You reassured me with a grin and an endearing nod. At first, we rarely saw each other, only when I really needed you. But eventually we began seeing each other regularly, attached not at the hip but at the middle and the index finger. Soon we were inseparable. You went from being a crutch to lean on when forced to consume something “unhealthy” to being around every day when I was bored or stressed or tired or angry or all of the above. You felt like a warm embrace, a calming presence.
Eventually there wasn’t even an “us” anymore. It wasn’t you and me; you swallowed me. The only difference was you had no intention of throwing me back up. But I didn’t care. Even when my hair started falling out, I loved you. Even when I missed period after period, I loved you. Even with the tears and brittle fingernails and the struggle to stay warm, I continued loving you.
Years of therapy and nutritionist appointments couldn’t convince me to give you up because I believed I needed you. I believed that no one would truly understand our relationship, so I never fully let anyone else in on our secrets. I believed you made me whole even though you reduced me to half the person I ever was. I’ve known you for six years, almost a third of my life. And our lives are now so intertwined that I still find myself questioning who is calling the shots.
Even when I cheated on you with self-harm, you didn’t care. You even encouraged it. And you two worked together to launch us into mutually assured destruction. Like a messed up love triangle, we used each other for years. But even after I left self-harm and came back to you, we were never the same. You set out to destroy me, and you came close many times.
But I’m done. I’m finally done.
This is not just a break-up. This is a divorce. Sure, we never signed a marriage license, but we might as well be married. I depend on you. I’ve spent a significant portion of my life with you. I’ve spent large amounts of money trying to please you. And at times, I’ve felt that you brought more peace than any real partner could.
But if I stay with you, you will consume me to the point where there is no “me” left. All that will be left is the shell of the person I used to be, which is why I am ending our relationship for good. For now I still “love” you. For now I will miss you. But in the years to come I will remember the sour taste you left in my mouth. I will realize how controlling you were. I will remember how you kept me away from friends and parties. I will remember how you forced me into actions I never perceived possible. I will remember how you made me believe I wasn’t worth love or affection – from myself or from others. In the years to come I will look back on our relationship and realize how foolish I was.
This divorce from you marks the beginning of me. It will take some time to get over you, that is sure. But I am telling you right now that you will never come back into my life. I have severed our ties, and I am burying you six feet deep before you have the chance to do the same to me.
This divorce is the first step in letting go of you, letting go of us. I could say I hope you find happiness with someone else, but I don’t. I sincerely hope you never find anyone else to control, manipulate, or destroy.
You’ve been served. But do not worry. This letter doesn’t need your signature.
I’ve already signed off for the both of us.