i lied.
yup,
i liedddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd…

i told them we’d still be friends once we went our separate ways.

that was a lie and i have no regrets about it,
because by that point,
i wasn’t trying to be friends after 8 months of hell any fuckin’ way.

i was trying to make it safely to the exit by someone who threatened to “throw my shit outside” during their last tirade.

Foxhole,
one thing i’ve learned about dealing with unpredictable people is:

you don’t always announce your departure while you’re still depending on them for shelter.

you smile,
stay cordial,
stop explaining yourself,
keep certain plans to yourself,
and move accordingly.
that’s exactly what i did.
for months,
i learned what caused explosions and what didn’t.
i learned that honesty didn’t always lead to understanding.
sometimes it led to another argument,
another lecture,
another accusation,
and another conversation that no matter how we started:

we ended up discussing everything allegedly wrong with me,
while they wanted me to bow down for things i didn’t do wrong.

what they said to me more than a few times:

“all you needed to do was apologize and wave the white flag and this would have been over.”

sidebar: i got that screenshot btw.

they didn’t realize my our mutual friend and i were close too.
they saw every text,
heard the voice recording that they told me to do to protect myself,
and even witnessed the mask fly off on them in real time too.
what they said to them:

“they told me they blacked on me when i was trying to diffuse the situation because in their head,
they thought i was taking your side.
i didn’t give a perspective and they were going off on me.
i didn’t appreciate that from them.”

they did more than enough exposing themselves and according to them:

” i have lost friendships and relationships because i black out because of my temper.”

so you see what i was dealing with?
they weren’t entirely wrong when they accused me of being secretive.
i was on purpose.
while they thought i was “doing things at the last minute while they plan early“:

i was quietly building my exit.

i loved how shocked they were that i had made connections here.

i put myself out there.
i mingled.
i left an imprint with the important people.

i built genuine relationships with those who looked out for me,
eventually becoming part of the village that helped me get out.
even after we were in two separate places,
they were STILL not respecting my boundaries.
so the abusive ass paragraphs in texts flooding on.

i was selfish.
ungrateful.
they “gave, gave, gave.”; i supposedly “took, took, took.”
they “opened doors for me here”.
i burned a bridge with them and that won’t be repaired.
i would never have survived without them.

that was the part that made me reference kobe in my head:

“you wasn’t shooting with me in the gym”.

i remained silent.
help shouldn’t constantly be brought up as evidence against me,
generosity shouldn’t come with an invisible invoice,
and shelter shouldn’t require me to surrender my boundaries,
my peace,
or my voice as payment.

they wanted me to sow gratitude by giving up one of my entire paychecks.

eventually,
they blocked me on everything and Foxhole:

i didn’t have to lift a paw.

after eight months,
i am still exhausted and even in my own space,
i’ve caught myself behaving like i’m still there.
i’m realizing that leaving physically doesn’t mean i’ve completely left it emotionally.

these are my walls.
my silence.
my rules.
my peace to rebuild.

…and as for that bridge i supposedly burned?
nah.
they annihilated their bridge with me a long time ago.

i just never sent them the memo.

oops.