Dear Austin,

I am so incredibly over you and all the memories you gave me. I held you to a higher standard; I put you on a pedestal. I desperately wanted you to be the man I needed. You weren’t, so I pretended. Still, you gave me so many memories, so many I will never forget, so many I want desperately to erase.Nevertheless, I’m not willing to erase all of them yet. You are so intertwined in my history — nearly five years of my life. I have pictures of myself that I LOVE, but must endure a memory of you because I am wearing the necklace you gave me. This necklace meant the world to me. I am an extremely sentimental person. If you give me something or take me somewhere I am the type to save the evidence in a box somewhere. This necklace was a symbol. I asked for it, I asked for something to mark our journey into D/s. It was there with me, everyday. It was what I reached for in times of stress and struggles. It was a literal symbol of a nerd- franchise we both love. It’s a symbol of the group that believes that everything is connected and that there is no end to anything. Encourages selflessness, self-knowledge, connection to all things. Your self-awareness was really just you being an abuser, believing your own lies, but I didn’t see that right away. This meaning is the reason you choose it for me; self awareness and an unseen connection across time and space. You said it would link us. You said it was from Dominate to submissive. More like Douche-Dom, False-Dom, Fake-Dom. You said it would be with me everyday as I promised I would wear it everyday. Some may call this a “day collar.” Though, you never did because you refused to acknowledge our D/s relationship outside of kinky sex. To this day, I know exactly where it rests. I have not yet had the gumption to throw it over a bridge like a dramatic scene in a movie, don’t think I haven’t thought about it… I have. Sort of waiting for someone encourage me to do this… but not many know the meaning behind this piece of jewelry and even less know I still have it.I see your face when I think of my time in the military, you were my stepping stone, you lead me to my dream of enlisting. You believed in me, believed in my good. You were on my side. My mentor. Until, one day, you weren’t. You just weren’t. I guess all things just take time.There is a conference this summer, but I won’t even consider going because the city it is being held in has too many memories of you. There is basically no chance I would run into you, but I know I would find myself wanting to go back to your apartment (briefly, our apartment) and I just will not do that. I still remember your address. I remember your favorite places. I remember all the places we went together.I hate your face so much sometimes. I hate that I still see you pop up on my Facebook even though you unfriended me the exact day I left you. I hate that I think of you, ever, PERIOD. I hate that I still have triggers from the bullshit you fed me. I hate that I still think about your truck and the things you like and the things we did together. But, its not worth my energy. I am in control now; I am taking back that control. I am the boss now. I want you to hate me. I want the satisfaction of knowing you despise me. That would make me incredibly happy. I get to be the one you think about, not the other way around. I want you to try too never think about me again. In most regards I have completely moved on from you, your lies, your gas lighting, your nonsense...It has been nearly seven months of me contributing to this community, seven  months of me reflecting on this relationship. My happiness today has exceeded anything you could have given me. You failed. You could have had me. But you fucked up. You tried to break me down and ruin me. You did, briefly. I remember that person. I cried a near straight 48-hours when I drove myself across the country back to my hometown. Your plan didn’t work, failed miserably, actually. My self-esteem is the highest it has ever been.About four months ago, I met someone. I have mentioned him before, but lets make this “official.” His name is Troy. Here is the thing, Troy is not one to SAY one thing and do another. He follows though. He actually listens to the things I say; he remembers the things I like and things I don’t. He understands what I need from a polyamorous D/s dynamic because he is willing to listen to me, to respect me and my boundaries. HE is ACTUALLY willing to care for my well-being in a way you will NEVER be capable of. Perfect? No one is perfect; I don’t expect perfection. This is exactly what I need right now. Something positive to look forward to.You should really meet him. I want you to meet him. My sick twisted mind wants you to see the way I look at him, how willing I am to submit to him. I want you to see what a healthy poly and kinky dynamic can be, should be, is. I wish you were at the event I (and others) hosted a few weeks ago. I was talking to my cousin, crouched down next to the chair she was sitting in, he noticed I was talking about him and he came over to me. He stood over me, I smirked up at him, and I was literally, unintentionally, kneeling at his side. I was so incredibly happy in this moment. You should have seen the huge, goofy smile I must have had on my face. He saw it. I don’t ever remember having a moment like that with you. Meet the new me, the me that gives no fucks about opinions of the general public. I hope you are happy with the me you helped create. This is the me I love, this is the me I need to be. The me you never let me be. The me you kept me from being. I hope for the sake of others you learn how to treat people in your life with respect… but old habits die hard. Its unfortunate.Love, GirlAdrift