I can no longer see the image that you had when we first met.  You were the bright happy girl that always lit up my life when she laughed.  Even as I think about it now, tears fall from my eyes.  I remember how happy we used to be before you descended into the pit of darkness and dragged me along with you. 

Those eyes that lit up my life soon turned dull and dark anytime they were turned upon me. You died your hair black and started cutting the delicate skin on the underside of your arms.  You promised me you would stop after I discovered them one evening, but that never happened.  You started getting more violent towards me, scratching, hitting and slapping. 

The sad thing was, I still loved you.

But I knew that you were a bad influence on me, that this relationship wasn’t healthy.  When I told you I had to leave you, my eyes filled with tears, but you me, hitting and slapping me until I had the sense to get away.  I heard you come running after me, your warm arms holding me and crying into the back of my shirt, telling me you’re sorry and that you love me. 

I believed you.

You took my head in your hands and kissed my forehead, and looked at me with apologetic eyes.  The way you looked at me, I was sure you would change, and definatly for the better.  I was wrong.