My boyfriend, who are you?
And so I looked to his blog to learn more about him. It’s the place where he goes to vent. To tell everyone one else in the world but me what’s going on in his head. He does it to protect me. He says. I wonder if he knows how much it hurts? Maybe I’m reading too much into it now. Maybe I wasn’t reading enough into things before. I feel lost. I feel so lost because I felt like I knew him so well and he is part of me. I looked to learn only to find I didn’t really know him and so I don’t feel as though I know a huge part of myself. This isn’t just some boy. This is my boyfriend, my world, my one and only love. Someone I would kill for, someone I would be killed for. And I’m crying as I write this. Do we ever really know anyone? Can we really jump between bodies and brains and know someone from their inner core to their out? I used to think so.
I could never tell him that his stupid fucking tumblr has made me feel so depressed. And it’s funny because I was just about to go to bed before I wrote this. Before I searched his tumblr url in the top bar of my phone and found it. I wish I didn’t. But I’m glad I did. It reminded me that you never know what people are truly thinking. How they truly feel. I thought he trusted me.
I am far too gullible. How could I ever think I was enough for anyone, how did I let myself think I am anything more than worthless. I am just so confused. How did I think I could succeed in a relationship with someone who is so tortured their knuckles are constantly red, angry, swollen when I cannot even maintain a friendship with a simply morbid person. I miss her.
I have doubted so many relationships so strongly, I wonder now if it is because I am subconsciously insecure with mine. I’ll regret staying up to write this tomorrow, it’s late. And I’m going to look like shit.
Where to begin? Do I start with the fact that he reblogged a photo shared by his ex-girlfriend of a naked couple kissing? No. Do I start with all the posts about how much he wants to die and how god damn forsaken and depressed he is? I don’t know. There are a million knots tied in my stomach right now. He didn’t tie them all by himself. I helped. It is definitely a combined effort.
I think I’ll start with the fact that he has many text posts referring to someone I have no idea who it could be. Someone he loves. But it’s not me. It can’t be me. He wishes they would miss him. I do. He wants his life back. I’m sorry if I’ve subtracted from it. He wants to give up so badly. Please don’t. Because If you’re not living for the beautiful girl that means nothing to you. Live for me.
So much negativity, so much hate. Who is he? I thought I could fix him. I thought I was all he needed. I’m not and I wish so fucking badly I could be. He says she’s mean. Maybe that one post is about me.
"You would be
a fool to believe
that anyone could
love you like I used to."
“People are poison?” I’m sorry if I have caused you pain, I’m more sorry if she has and I haven’t been able to help.
“Never again will I let someone in” but oh love, I wish you would and I wish it were me.
"You knew I was fragile, but you fucking dropped me anyway."
NOW IM ANGRY. WHO THE FUCK IS DOING THIS TO YOU.
And now I see a lot of pictures of males. Males shirtless. Males kissing. Maybe I’ve been wrong all this time, maybe it’s a he. Is this why he struggles? It will kill me if it is. Yeah its stereotypical but maybe this is why he hangs out with so many girls?
SO against porn. Yet what I’m seeing is naked women on women ( he says he is a feminist and totally against this). Pornographic images plastered on his site like playboy posters plastered on a teenage boys wall. I sometimes forget that’s exactly what he is.
“You’re the one who knows me best. Tell me why I’m depressed?” If only you knew how much I wish I could.
“Don’t touch my soul with dirty hands”. I’m sorry baby. Even if I Scrubbed them for a million years they wouldn’t be clean of my past, never could they be clean because of what I’m made of. I promise I’ll restrain from doing so as much as I can.
The cold stabs at me like thousands of needles.
What the fuck? You tell me I’m literally the only person you find attractive. Tumblr says otherwise.
"Alcohol tastes better than the thought of you and her" Trust me my beloved. I know.
What scares me most is that a lot of what he says, I can find on here. It sounds so much like him. So why don’t I know the other parts? I keep trying to tell myself, Maddie, its just a shitty website, it means nothing. No. This means absolutely fucking everything. This is him when I’m not there. This is him before me and after me and with me.
I have never been so scared in my life.
