me comforting my mullet husband and assuring him that he is still masculine after he had to see another mans butt cheek
this is an image with a lot of power and while my instincts are telling me to lean into it I don’t feel like the life I’ve lived to this point has equipped me to do it safely
Executive dysfunction is basically going “Okay one two three go. And now. Aaaaaaannnnnnnd we’re goinnnnng now.” for like three hours before the thing happens
I don’t think you realize how much you hurt me. It’s easy for me to tell you that you hurt me bad, because it’s just a word. You don’t realize what you did to me. This is what you did to me.
When you left me. Over text. As if we were 12 and in middle school. You didn’t even have to the balls to call me or, do it in person. No you just didn’t care enough to look me in the eyes. It’s embarrassing for me to say, because it makes me seem so weak and so dependent, but I wanted to die. I was ready to take my life, I was taking a bath when you ended it. I got out and put a rob on. I layed on my bed and called my friend telling her I can’t do this anymore. She called my mother and told her she needed to get home because she’s worried i’m going to do something. My mom rushed home, went upstairs to find me on my bed diagonally looking out the window, not moving. She ran up to me thinking I was dead. When she realized I wasn’t dead, just dead on the inside, I cried on her lap. Scratch cried, I balled. She texted you, asking if you could just see me. You told her no. I have work. That night a friend came over. I pretend to be okay. Laughed it off. Hoping. Believing you would come back to me.
The next week I ate practically nothing. I wasn’t trying to starve myself. I was just too sad to eat. I spent every night, rereading the texts you would send me. The most painful ones were the paragraphs you sent me two days before you left me about how much you loved me. Those still burn to this day. While I was in my bed crying, I would see you out partying. Hanging out with girls.
Two weeks later I find out you had sex with one of my friends. And even though we were broken up, it felt like you cheated on me. How could you fuck someone, while I couldn’t even think about kissing another guy. I felt so worthless. And I used to never let a boy make me feel this way. I used to be so confident and independent. And you made me feel like the most worthless human. Because if you could do that after what we had, then I was worthless to you, and if you could think of me as worthless, and I used to amaze you, I really did believe I was worthless.
You spent the next 9 months using me. You would facetime me here and there. Give me false hopes. Say things like “I regret what I did” and “god I really do miss us” and then I wouldn’t even get a text for two weeks. Until you would here and there come over. Make everything feel like we were back to normal, have sex with me, as soon as you put your clothes back on. You would slap my ass and say “have a goodnight” and I wouldn’t hear from you again. And you did that over and over and over and over and over and over again, so many times I lost track. And you’re a guy, you don’t understand how it feels. But you made me feel so god damn pathetic. I would wake up the next morning, look in the mirror and the sight of me would make me cry. I would cry because I felt so weak to just let you do that to me again. Why couldn’t I have just learned from the last time? What the hell is wrong with me? If any other guy did that to me, I would have no problem never speaking to them again. But with you? I wasn’t even mad at you, I was mad at myself. I never hated you. I just gave you excuses. Oh he’s just stressed. Oh he’s just trying to figure out what he wants. Oh he’s just confused. And god how I really believed it. I could not get it through my head that you just weren’t the same person I used to love. I was just a god damn toy. When my friends would tell me to just block you. I would tell them “I would rather be just wanted for sex, because it’s better then him not wanting anything to do with me at all” and that is so fucking sad.
9 months of that. 9 months of you using me, of me crying on the floor of the shower praying to god to give me strength to let you go, of me watching you be happy without me, of my friends hearing the god damn same story. And even though I should’ve hated you. All I wanted was you back.
And I got you back. I did. We’re back together now. I have found out you have had sex with 6 other girls while we broke up. And I know that’s normal for guys. But it was so hurtful because while I was balling over you, you were out fucking other girls. I became aware of how wrong I was. I honestly thought that you were still hurt. I thought that you couldn’t stop thinking about me either. I thought that you couldn’t find anyone else like me like I couldn’t find anyone else like you. And now I know it wasn’t like that. As much as it’s nicer to think that while I was crying over you, you were crying over me too. But truth is you were getting high every night and fucking girls.
And sometimes I just look at you. While we’re laying down, the sun from the window glaring in between us, our faces 3 inches away. And I just look at you. I look at you and think how the fuck could you. I always said feelings blind you from reality. I couldn’t see the reality when you hurt me because I was so caught up in emotions, but now that i’m over what you did, I see things clearly. And now I know how much you didn’t care, and how much I did. And it fucking hurts. I feel so bad for the girl I was a year ago. And now i’m back with the man who fucking destroyed me. And i’m not even happy with you. It’s draining being with you. I have to fake a smile and laugh in fear of you leaving me like you did last time. And I know I should just leave you. You’ll joke and say I know you hate me. And god I do. I hate you for what you did to me. I know I told you long ago I could never hate you. But I hate what you did to me. I couldn’t see it then, but I see it now.
But I can’t fucking leave you. I am so scared of hurting the way I did last time. And after going through that, I know the pain of staying with you isn’t half the pain of being without you. So I stay. And continue to act okay. Like I have forgotten what you have done.
But I haven’t. I am reminded of it every single fucking day. And when the day comes. The day I can’t do it anymore. Every day it’s more and more draining. And when i’m finally fed up. I will fucking destroy you. I know you will hurt, I am the perfect girlfriend to you now. You will have no bad memories to cling to when I break your heart. I will leave you the same way you left me. I will do it over text. When you call me begging for me back, I will only say “i’m sorry” and hang up. You will see me partying, you will hear about me having sex with someone else. I’ll facetime you here and there, I will say things like “I regret what I did” or “ I really miss us”. And then you won’t hear from me until one night i’m horny. I will come over and make everything feel the way it used to. I will have sex with you. And when I put my clothes back on, I will kiss you and say “ have a goodnight” and you won’t hear from me after. I will do that over and over and over and over and over again.
But I won’t come back to you. I will fucking destroy you. The same way you destroyed me.
