Trigger warning: abuse, violence, alcohol abuse ——-
You bought me a bracelet. You only bought it for me after we had that argument because you didn’t know of any other way to say you were sorry. In the end, you didn’t even say it. You just gave me the bracelet and looked me in silence, imploring me to forgive you. I hate to admit that it worked. During that argument, you screamed at me for almost an hour and then called me a ‘pathetic little bitch’. You slapped me round the face and left me crying on the floor. You stepped over me and then proceeded to drink so many pints at the pub that you could hardly stand. I cried myself to sleep that night.
You bought me a bracelet. When you left me, you took a part of me with you but you left behind that bracelet. It was the only thing you left behind. My flat seemed empty without your mess cluttering up my hallway and my living room. That bracelet was the only physical reminder I had left of you; the bruises faded not long after you left.
You brought me a bracelet. I used to wear it all the time: it was the only reminder I had that we were once together. Two years and one round of therapy are what I had to endure to get to this point in my life but I’ve finally taken it off my wrist. It took me a while but here I am. You can have your bracelet back.