I found my american cell today under my nieces bed. I charged it and switched it on. There was a big part of me that just wished I had lost it forever. A bunch of texts from my fiancé who became my wife. A bunch of photos.

I read them all. 4 times. Over and over again. And I came to the realisation that she did love me. She loved me in the way she knew how to love. The love that when it becomes to real you self sabotage and lash out, and hurt yourself or others. The desperation in her texts broke my heart and left a canyon of emptiness in my stomach. She was begging me not to leave. I was keeping my boundaries. I had switched into social worker mode and I hadn't even realised it back then.

I knew the cycle of violence, I knew the cycle of borderline personality disorder, I knew the cycle of dysfunction, and I grew up with the cycle of narcissism. That typical I hate you fuck off, I love you please don't leave, It wont happen again I promise, I will change, and then the cycle starts all over again.

The suicidality I have been living with on a daily basis, due to the loss and grief and the deep wounds of the last little while is minimised on a scale of if I stayed. I know my mental health. I know my triggers. I know the pattern of both of us. I would have killed myself without a shadow of a doubt.

It was in that moment when I was reading back over those texts, that I wanted to hold her close to my naked chest. Let my warmth radiate into her. Press her head into my neck, stroke her hair and feel the heaving of her chest, and promise her everything was going to be ok. Like I had a hundred times before. My natural instinct to make it ok for everyone else - the path of martyrdom that I so easilyfall into.

I turned the phone off, and looked up at the rain falling like snow form the sky and said just loud enough for the wind to hear "You did enough, you where enough and you are ok" As i walked into the house to restock the fire, I whispered, Im sorry Jas, I loved you but I need to let you go x