I had to lie to you to breathe again. I ripped a part of my heart from my chest the day I told you I hated you. Back and forth, you tugged me—only good enough when someone else didn’t want you. You ignited a storm inside of me that took all of my light and put it into a spiraling tornado of pain. I screamed it, and without a second thought, you left. I broke us so I could save myself from your pain.