I Remember, But I Bet You Don't

I remember the things you said and the things you didn't say. I remember the way you judged me. I remember the way you were angry that I hadn't asked permission for how I was going to live my life, and how you told me you "didn't want to rescue me again."

I remember.

I remember when our relationship took a turn. I remember when you crossed a line you never should have crossed. I remember when I started feeling uncomfortable around you.

I remember.

I remember the things you told our mutual friends about me.

I remember all of it.

I bet you don't. I bet that when you get together with mutual friends and talk, it's about how I changed. You're right. I have changed: I decided to make my own decisions. 

I decided that people who try to make you feel bad about your choices -- all of them, from your eyeliner to your life partner -- are not people you should have around. 

I decided that the people I would count as my friends would respect my boundaries.

I decided that I couldn't be friends with anyone who talked shit about me to others.

But I do remember. I remember when we were friends. I remember how much fun we had. But I also remember how much the things you said hurt me. I remember when you started not inviting me to things because you disagreed with how I was living my life. I remember how anxious and sad and scared you made me feel.

You might not remember. 

You don't have to.

Because I do.