The Door I Held Open

I’ve been through my share of ups and downs, but nothing quite compares to the turmoil of a toxic relationship. It’s the kind of experience that carves itself into your memory—anger, frustration, shouting, and the deafening noise of arguments where, halfway through, you forget what you’re even fighting for. It’s chaotic, a mess of emotions tangled in envy, jealousy, and gaslighting, with control at the center.

There’s no real peace in it—only fleeting moments of calm between storms. When you’re caught in the whirlwind of a toxic relationship, it feels like you’re constantly tiptoeing around shattered glass, avoiding another explosion. You begin to question your reality, constantly walking on eggshells, never sure if the love you thought you had is real or just another manipulation. Gaslighting becomes a language, and you start to doubt your own truth as your world warps into something almost unrecognizable.

I’ve felt the sting of envy pierce through conversations and the weight of jealousy that smothers any hope of trust. It’s exhausting, draining every ounce of joy and replacing it with suspicion and resentment. The fights are loud and never-ending, the accusations hurled back and forth until words lose their meaning. In the end, you can’t even remember what you’re arguing about—it’s just noise, a desperate struggle to regain control over something that was broken from the start.

I’ve learned one thing well: people come and go. Maybe I'm too used to the revolving door of my life—people leave, and I’m often the one left holding it open, waiting for them to decide if they want to stay or go. Every goodbye is painful, but some are necessary, like ripping off a bandage that’s stuck too long to a wound that refuses to heal.

But here’s the thing—if you choose to leave, you’re free to go. I won't beg, I won’t plead. I'll stand by that open door until you make your choice. Yet, don't be surprised if, when you decide to come back, the door is closed. Some scars don’t fade, and some wounds shouldn’t be reopened.

In the end, I’ve learned to protect myself. It’s taken time, but I’ve come to understand that letting go is not a sign of weakness—it’s a sign of strength. No matter how deep the pain, no matter how long it takes, I’ll always choose myself over the chaos of a toxic relationship. Some doors are better left shut, for the sake of peace, healing, and the hope of finding something healthier on the other side.

So, if you’re standing there, deciding whether to walk in or walk out, know this: I will not stop you. The choice is yours, but don't expect the door to remain open forever. One day, it will be closed, and I’ll be on the other side, moving forward, stronger than I ever was before.

 I'm well used to people leaving my life

I'm always the one holding the door

And You decide whether you want to walk in or walkout

But don't be surprised that when you want to come back, they will be closed.