You say that you’ve been in my position, and that it’s the worst thing ever. I’ve been through much worse, and you have no idea.
Last summer I chose him over you, because I didn’t want you to be a rebound.
I’ve liked you basically since the first time I met you. You were always there for me. Talking to you would make me instantly feel better. You can always make me laugh, no matter what’s going on in my life. The way I feel about you scared me. I had just gotten out of a long, messy, confusing relationship. I wasn’t ready for you. Being around you gave me butterflies. You made me feel like I actually deserved to be happy. I knew I would fall hard and fast for you. I wanted a serious, lasting relationship with you. I just wasn’t ready. So I chose him.
He was just some guy I kissed at a party. I never felt for him the way I feel about you. I knew it wouldn’t last with him, but it lasted a lot longer than it should’ve. Choosing him was the worst thing I’ve ever done. You don’t even know what I went through. I suffered so much being with him, but I felt like I deserved it for what I did to you.
I want you to know what I went through, but I’m scared to tell you because I think you won’t care. I’m scared that you’ll think I deserved what happened to me.
I’ve told my close friends bits and pieces, but I’ve never told anyone the whole story. I can’t keep it to myself anymore, so here it is.
It was a bad relationship before it even started. He was super controlling from the very beginning. I had to be talking to him at all times. If I took too long to message him back, he would start jumping to conclusions. He thought I was cheating on him before we were even officially together. I should have stopped things right then, but I had hurt you already, and I felt like if I didn’t stay with him, I would’ve hurt you for no reason. I stopped hanging out with my friends so I could be at home to talk to him on msn. I stayed up all hours of the night arguing with him, reassuring him that I wanted to be with him, when I didn’t even believe it myself. I failed summer school because doing homework would take away from the time I could talk to him. When his parents decided they didn’t want him dating me, I lied to everyone I cared about so we could date in secret. I lost almost all of my friends because of the way I acted while I was with him.
When his parents found out that we were still together, they kicked him out, and he came to live with me. That was when my life became hell. I couldn’t get away from him then. I was stuck in a never-ending guilt trip. I couldn’t be upset with him because “he gave up his family for me.” Even though he lived with me, and I was with him every second that I wasn’t at work or school, he still thought I was cheating on him. I was no longer allowed to wear make-up, do my hair or wear even remotely nice clothes without a huge fight. I wasn’t allowed to talk to any guys, other than the three that he was friends with, and if I even talked to them too much, he’d start getting parranoid. I couldn’t hang out with my friends without him being there too. I couldn’t even go visit my family because it wasn’t fair to him, since he didn’t have any family. I even almost ruined my relationship with my parents and sisters because of him. When I was home, I had to be up in our room, spending time with him, ignoring the rest of my family. I wasn’t allowed to do anything alone, not even shower or brush my teeth. He was in total control over me and everything I did. He didn’t care what I wanted. He could and did guilt me into anything. The very worst thing, and the hardest for me to admit, is that he raped me… almost every day. He didn’t care if I didn’t want to have sex with him, or if I didn’t want to do certain things. He would force himself on me and force me to do things to him. Even when I would be bawling my eyes out, begging him to stop, he wouldn’t. There are millions of other things that he did to make my life a living hell, but everything else seems like nothing compared to that.
He never got a job in the almost five months that he lived there. Every dollar that I made in those months went to my parents to pay for him living with us. He would lie to me and say that he was trying, but he would never leave the house. He would sleep all day until I got home from school, then stay up all night and keep me awake with him. I was constantly sick from lack of sleep. We were almost always fighting. I was almost always crying. My mom asked me countless times if I was okay, because she heard me crying all the time. I would lie to her and say that I was fine. I would blame myself for everything, tell her that I was just over-emotional and that he did nothing wrong. He hated my mom. When she moved out in December, I wasn’t allowed to be upset about it. I had to pretend that I was happy. I was always pretending that I was happy. I hardly ever got to talk to my best friend because if I was on the phone with her for more than five minutes, he would get mad. I didn’t see her once the entire time I was with him. I always spent a few days with her over Christmas Break. It was one of the very few times I would get to see her all year. He felt that I was too busy to visit her though. That Christmas was the worst. We fought the entire time, like we always did. December was when I decided I needed to break up with him.
The first time I told him that I didn’t want to be with him anymore, he refused to believe me and somehow convinced me that I didn’t believe it either. Any time I would try to break up with him, he would guilt me out of it.
“I gave up my family for you.”
“You’re all I have left.”
“Without you, I’m nothing.”
“I have nowhere to go.”
“I’ll kill myself if I can’t be with you.”
“I promise I’ll change. Things will get better.”
“You love me. Don’t do this.”
He had put me down so much in our relationship and made me feel like I was nothing. I was weak, so all his stupid lines worked on me. I hated my life. Every failed attempt to break up with him put me further and further into depression. In February I tried to kill myself. He had accused me of cheating on him with my step-dad’s best friend. It was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard. When I told him so, he said that it just made him think I was trying to hide something. I tried to tell him to leave, that I didn’t want to be with him anymore, that I was sick of his bullshit, that I didn’t love him and never had, but he wouldn’t listen. I was too tired and weak to fight with him, so I gave in and said I was sorry, that I didn’t mean it and just to go to sleep. I told him I was going to get a drink, went to the medicine cabinet and took every painkiller and sleeping pill I could find. I went to bed thinking that I was done, that I wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore, that I was finally free… but of course, he wouldn’t let me sleep through the night. He woke me up a little while later because he was bored. The second he woke me up, I started throwing up. I was really sick for a few days, but I didn’t die. He had no idea. He thought I just had the flu.
A couple weeks later, he found out that I had been talking to a guy in one of my classes. He didn’t care that I had been friends with this guy since grade nine and couldn’t just ignore him. He got so angry that he punched a wall and fractured his hand. He spent most of the next day waiting in the ER to get x-rays. That night we went to a party one of my friends from work was having. He practically ignored me the whole night, kept wandering off, and flirted with other girls behind my back. I just brushed it off because I didn’t feel like fighting. I was dancing with a few friends when he came back into the room, one of them happened to be a guy, but a very openly gay guy. I was dragged into a bedroom and screamed at about that one. Everyone I worked with was at that party and could hear him screaming at me. It was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I told him to leave me alone, pushed past him and ran out of the room. He came after me and tried to get me to leave with him. When I wouldn’t, he got so angry that he punched a wall with his other hand, cutting it open in a bunch of places and leaving a nice big hole in my friends’ apartment. I pictured it being me that he hit next time he got angry. That was what gave me the courage to finally break up with him. It took about ten hours of him saying anything he could think of and bawling his eyes out, trying to guilt me into letting him stay, but I finally did it.
That was the worst thing ever.
You not wanting to be with me sucks a lot, but it’s not the worst thing ever.
When we hung out for the first time after that all happened, I was really scared that it would be super awkward, but when I saw you, it felt like nothing bad had happened between us at all. I felt all those feelings instantly come back and when we started talking all the time again, I was soo happy. The day we spent together was the best day of my summer. Walking along that path with you felt like something out of a movie. I know I seemed kind of awkward when you were obviously trying to kiss me, but I was just really nervous. I was scared that it was too good to be true. I felt like everything was falling into place. I was moving in with my best friend, starting over, getting a second chance with you, but then you changed your mind. I was right to be scared. I said that I guessed I deserved it for what I did to you, and when we talked about it yesterday, you said that you felt like we were even after that, but you had no idea how much I had already suffered.
I tried to move on, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t understand how we could have such an amazing day together, and then you just decide you don’t want to be with me. I felt like there was still a chance for things to happen between us, and when I saw you on Thanksgiving weekend, I felt that connection again. Then the weekend after, laying in your arms just felt right. You said “when I’m with you I can’t imagine not being with you.” I don’t understand how you could feel like that, then two weeks later feel like you don’t like me enough to make it work.
I’m sorry if this is all too much, and I’ve made things even more awkward between us, but I needed to get it all out. But then again, you might not (probably won’t) even read this anyways.
I just want you to know that I really like you, and it really hurts me that you don’t feel as strongly about me as I do about you, but it’s not the worst thing ever.