What does it feel like be owned?

You once asked me what it meant to be owned by you. I was on the drugs of a new relationship and a new D/s relationship, so I could not even begin to answer you, let alone contemplate the answer.
Fast forward four years, and I am not owned by you anymore. I am not sure I ever really was owned by you.
Our connection or our relationship or our dynamic felt fucking magical at times. It felt like my soul needed it and what I had been missing my whole life.
And then it started to fade away. The magic faded away to confusion and manipulation.
I don’t think that you attempted to be or are a terrible person on this date. I don’t think you wanted to hurt me. I think things fell apart and fell apart really hard in a spectacular manner fit for poly history books.
Despite preaching acceptance in relationships, you refused to of accepting that you heeled on tighter. In holding on harder, closer, and longer, you started to suffocate me.
I wanted to return to the magic we had. I thought that if I could hold on, you would get better, we would get better. I kept trying. I kept trying to believe the things you told me about myself that we’re not right.
I wish we could have ended as friends. I wish that you had not been mean. I wish I had seen us quicker.