I hate the compete, I hate it as much as I hate her, I don’t hate her though, I hate what I allowed her to do to my emotions, was I weak, or honestly hurt, what happens to us when we are hurt, it’s like everything we were ever taught makes no sense, or keeps no memory, she hurt me, I want to yell it at the top of my lungs, this pen can’t do that, maybe that’s why I put it down during those years, there was nothing it could leak to the degree of how I felt, I just kept screaming, all along my ink was left out…