Last year, I fell in love with a boy.
I had no plans before that. Sure, I planned on becoming a doctor. I wasn't gonna actually try to live a life, my plans were, to put it simply, to finish med school and work a couple years as a psychiatrist. I had a plan to drink and smoke my days away until the day finally came that my friends would eventually find me dead within a spectacular circle of vomit, alcohol and cigarette ashes, with my cause of death being alcohol poisoning.
Yes, I planned to drink myself to death. Before I turned 30, preferably.
But then I fell in love with a boy. I won't name him. He was brilliant, especially with math. And I was absolutely smitten. I changed my plans, and I started believing that there was a future for me, with him in it. I started seeing life beyond 30, where I would have a house with him, some dogs and absolutely no children. I had plans.
We broke up though, and needless to say, I went down a downward spiral. I was crying everyday, thinking about all the damn things that went wrong. It wasn't sudden, we've seen it coming for years now. We were falling apart more and more day by day. Even though he gave me hope, made me draw up plans for myself, I soon realized that it wasn't meant to be. He did not love me anymore. I had plans. Back to basics.
I moved on, and have grown accustomed to the single life. I loved it, being single was great. But I still had the same plans as before him, drink myself to death. I was happy and satisfied with that.
Now I have a sort of boyfriend, and he tells me that he loves me. I can't find it in me to say it back. Would it solidify our relationship? Do we even have a relationship? We just make out and go. I hardly think it counts.
But then again, he tells me that he loves me. I think it's obvious that I like him back. But I'm trying to steer clear of love. I don't think romantic love would be good for me right now. I love my friends, they've helped me though a lot. They know everything, including him. They say that if I want to be with him, I should be.
But I'm so fucked up. I'm constantly anxious of losing damn pens because my mother beat me up really badly after I lost a folder at school. It's just an example, but you can still see that it's not normal. I am not normal.
He doesn't know any of this. I don't think he would love me if he knew these things.
Advice, please?
