I’m Scared Of You Now

We don’t speak anymore. I cut you off.

Not because you had a reaction to what happened. You were allowed to react, allowed to be angry.

It has nothing to do with you being upset. But has everything to do with what you chose to do with that anger.

You were mad. Fine. I get it. What happened frustrated you. Maybe if the roles were reversed, I would have been irritated too. I’m not above that; I’m human.

But I know one thing for certain: I would not have handled it the way you did.

I don’t let my anger drive the car. I don’t weaponize it. And I don’t take a moment of frustration and turn it into a character assassination.

You did.

You were so focused on putting me “in my place” that you stopped thinking about what your words would actually do. And you didn’t pause, didn’t measure, or consider the aftermath.

You just went for the hit.

And you landed it.

You permanently altered the image I had of you.

I’m not scared that you might lose your temper again, thatyou’ll yell. I’m not even scared you’ll say something mean.

What scares me is that you knew exactly what you were saying.

You didn’t just defend yourself or express frustration.

You took your anger and, instead of explaining it maturely, used it as fuel to go after me. And you calculated where it would hurt the most and pressed there.

That’s different.

There’s a difference between being overwhelmed and being deliberate between reacting emotionally and choosing to wound.

You chose.

And that’s why I can’t look at you the same.

I get that we all get angry. It’s normal, human. I don’t shame people for feeling things. But I will never go out of my way to deliberately hurt someone I claim to care about. I will never take a misunderstanding and use it as an opportunity to tear someone’s character apart.

You made me feel small, tried to mark my character in a way that felt permanent. Not because you were confused or needed clarity. But because you wanted to win.

And I don’t want relationships where someone needs to win.

What hurt the most wasn’t even the words themselves. It was the realization that those thoughts had probably been sitting there for a while. You don’t craft a statement like that out of thin air. You don’t strike that precisely without knowing where the weak spots are.

If that’s how you truly see me, then why would I want to keep you close?

Why would I willingly stay around someone who can flip from tolerable to cruel in a single conversation? Someone who, when pushed, doesn’t choose communication but chooses damage?

That’s not passion orintensity. No, that’s a lack of control and care.

And I refuse to normalize that.

It’s a shame because we used to be good. There were laughs, trust, and a version of us that worked.

But you made a choice.

You chose to hurt me instead of talking to me, and chose to defend yourself by attacking me.

You.

And once someone shows you what they’re willing to do that, you don’t unsee it.

So no, I don’t want an apology. I don’t want a redo. And I don’t want to revisit the situation.

Because this isn’t about one argument, it’s about who you revealed yourself to be when you were angry.

And that version of you? I don’t feel safe around it.

Not because you’re explosive.

But because you’re intentional.

And now, whatever distance exists between us – whatever access you no longer have to my life – that’s not something I did to you.

That’s the consequence of what you chose.

This has nothing to do with me anymore.

It’s all on you.

Featured image via Garon Piceli on Pexels