i’m not sure

i’m a pathological liar. maybe, only on the internet. in real life, i’m pretty sure i look sane. but i’m too messed up inside. i met someone, i can say she’s the only one closest to making me feel, in love. it doesn’t even matter if she didn’t love me the way i did, and if i loved her the way she did. we had different worlds. she was sixteen when i met her online, i was fourteen. she’s seventeen by now, i’m still the same age. but i lied about it, twice. i don’t know if i was narcissistic all this time, or just selfish, or just a kid who doesn’t know what she’s doing. i had her believe things about me that i lied about, and i found out she knew all along. after that, she didn’t leave. and i felt too good to be true. by that saying, it felt too much for someone like me. i despised how i lied, but the more i hated it, the more i did it. and i lied again. i never got to tell her who i really was until just days ago. we broke up on june 4. it hurt a lot, but it was for the best. so then, the day after, i started writing a journal for every day that i can, writing down my feelings and what i’d say to her, what i should’ve told her, what she had all the right to know about a person she was in a relationship with for seven months. i planned to give her it, by trying to act responsible in my home to get my parents give me permission to have a vacation in the city near where she lives. my hometown is five hours away from her. but she also didn’t know that at all. i said i was twenty, on college, and taking a program i’m good at, have a cool father, experience, and shitty lies that i never thought i’d say. i never really thought i could do such a thing. some would say that it’s because of my emotionally deprived family and surroundings around me. some would say i was just a lonely teen with no friends. some would laugh at me, pity me, feel sorry. but everything to be thrown at at me will be fine. it’s all the truth. i am a mess at this age. but that doesn’t change the fact that i can still exist and learn from it. i met her when i lost the thrive to continue studying, because of so many personal reasons, especially the way my parents deal with things, and how clear it was to me that i got the cowardly side of me from my father. i went online and everything was pretty different. of course, everyone anonymous would feel in a different world, which was the thing for roleplayers. i met her there, but back then, i never planned to stay that long. i never planned to make friends, ’cause i thought, “who would be friends with me? i’m a piece of crackling sh–.” so maybe that was it. the root for lying, the root for a new identity, a root for a pointless lie turned into something ridiculously tragic love story. i subconsciously went for an escape from reality, and this was everything. at first, it totally felt like an escape. but over time, it was overlapping with my real life. with my own world, messed up self. she was kind. now that i think i about it, i gave so many hints about how much worse i could be in real life. one first time, i asked her if i would do something to get me in trouble, will she support me, she was positive about it. and then one time when we’re finally in a relationship, i told her if we ended up marrying other people, we’ll just have to let it go and let time pass until we can finally leave those people and find each other. yeah, a teen sweet dream, huh? but i meant it. i meant everything i said towards loving her more everyday. ever since i met her, i fell in love a lot. a lot. a lot. with her, with life, again. with myself. i got better, but she wasn’t aware of anything at all, of how it was the rock-bottom of my paradoxical and delusional mind, inverted from the positive, mature, peaceful and normal life i told her that i had, which was never true. except for the peaceful, that was when she came. i started to reconnect with myself, and the people close to me, super slowly. she motivated me to do so many things. especially to just get up. but each time, i would cry. every happy conversation and moment, i would cry. every time she would say she has to do something real quick, i’d cry. ’cause in reality, she had it worse than me. i’m the one who’s taking advantage. i’m the only one who was dishonest. and i would cry so much because why did i have to meet her like this? but it was like there was no other way to be so. i endured it, i wanted to keep the connection. i wanted for her and me to last. but it could never, because of the way things were. but i tried. all this time i thought i was lying because i was only scared for her to know, but i realized i did it because i saw happiness in her eyes. i saw happiness along with sadness, along with the feelings that envelops love. i don’t even care if it’s just because of the phone screen on video calls. i just saw it. she was happy. but not for long. i knew that. i lied… because i thought, she knows it’s not going to last forever. so even if i have to alter what’s real, just for her to feel my love in a way i could without having to know everything, then i will. i thought, she knew that despite it felt forever on one moment only, she would hold on. but no. i realized that i wasn’t realistic, practical, and smart. i just pretended to be. whenever i see her face, i don’t want her to know what kind of person i am. it felt more than trust. it felt more than love. it was something i thought i have to do to save her from me, while being with me. but it was never like that in the first place… i tried. but on her side, it was just too much to handle, a relationship. a long-distance, but now that she knows everything, it’s much more complicated to even think we had a normal one. we never did. it was my fault. i planned to never tell her at all after she broke up with me. and just meet her again, and pretend i never met her before. that i’m just someone who looks like someone she had. but that’s way too much, right? i could have done it. but it’s just wrong. i know this time that it’s being selfish and unfair. so i wrote everything on a notebook. but my tongue slipped one night, because i felt too guilty. after the break up, we still talked like acquaintances. it was comfortable. for me, because she said she fell out of love. and it was a good thing, i thought, because now she doesn’t feel anything, that’s a relief she’ll be fine without me. but on my side, it’s never like that. i miss her everyday. so i just pretended again that it was fine with me, because that’s the only way i could talk to her again. another selfish act. even just before i give her the notebook, i could enjoy the moments left of her that still cares for me, but of course, it’s pointless. it was pointless, because she cares for an image of a person i lied about, but not really me, me. it hurt, because all along deep down, i’ve come to learn that i wanted her to know me the best down to my deepest secrets. but even just the first thing she had to know, i wasn’t even able to tell her. that one night was a mistake but it was for the best. she knew then that i lied, for the second time. and broke the promise that no more lies after the one before that she knew about. it felt a relief of pain. the acknowledgement i had for how much it hurt that she’s just starting to hate me was what i felt for days. that’s what was going to happen anyway. it was too unfair, i admit. i was unfair, for just deciding to give her a notebook with the truth that she didn’t know about one day and i just expect her to read it like a wonderful classic. and i realized there was more people close to me that were clueless. firstly the friend i have. the one i was always comfortable with because i knew him, and by saying that, i know he’d come to pick up to the suspicion — rather, curiosity that i’m a liar. he was the first one to know. i really felt ridiculous. because he’s wise, and his reactions just says a lot. his two words reactions says a lot. but it was more than enough for me to deserve. he accepted me still and told me it’s okay. he’s just one year older. i lied about my birthday also, and he had the same but real. so all this time everyone thought he and i were born on the same day, october 19th, only i was older. but no. mine was october 3. but 19th was the one i genuinely enjoyed, because everyone i knew along with, her, greeted me. while on my real birthday, no one really did in my real life. so it didn’t matter much. but i was reminded on what happened on my birthday that time, just a few days ago. it was one night on october 2nd, 7 pm, that me and her talked for the first time. she taught me to play pool online, until midnight, when my birthday just came. yeah, i was thirteen until then. i never knew and never remembered. but now i know. i don’t deserve to be treated kindly, especially by my friend, so i just didn’t want to tell him also, because i knew it’ll be fine with him. i mean, i don’t deserve it. he’s stupid, i’d say out of guilt. but he’s just a good person, and one to trust me for anything. i wanted to just push him away, or leave without saying anything out of his life. but that’s also unfair for him. honestly for me, he was a real friend that i had. the kind of friend i’d still feel perfectly comfortable with even after decades, if he still doesn’t despise me and isn’t still sick of me by then.

she, she knows my password on the facebook roleplay account i used for us to talk. and i also changed the password in my instagram the same one, with the spark of hope she’d still want to have something to do with me. and i think she did opened it. she messaged me after days of that one night i told her not on purpose that i lied again, asking, if everything i said to my friend was true. i thought what i was gonna reply and how i’m gonna say yes for almost an hour. i said yes, and apologized. i didn’t know what to do by then. i feel like i’m just hanging on the last tingle of thread to hope for things. i asked my friend if he talked to her, he said no. so i figured that she might have opened it. or my friend told her friend that’s
also friends with my …. yes. i don’t think i have the right to call her as someone i had. i have so much respect. so i will just do that instead. not for long that everyone will know. but this is what i have to do. and what they should know, whoever cares and whoever didn’t but saw what i pretended i was.

i don’t know how you see me as now. but i hope you do what’s best for you. i don’t know what it is, but i don’t have the right to tell you anything you should and shouldn’t. but try to forget me for a while.
i am sorry.
it takes everything for a person like me to be true, but now, i’ve got nothing to lose, after you.

3 thoughts on “i’m not sure”

  1. Never share your passwords.
    I don’t care how enamored you are with someone or how friendly and fun they make you feel. When you share your passwords you magnify your risk for identity theft by an intense percentage.

    You might feel careless about it now, but you won’t if somehow that information gets used against you later on..
    If you share your passwords , would you also share your credit cards? If someone else wrecks your credit score and leaves you with the damage but you got high hopes to start a business,buy a house, car, school, anything..what will you do? At that point the apr rates you’ll get charged for bad credit will have you paying double in just about everything.

    Protect your identity and your future, be honest in the spaces where it actually has value.. your authentic self and introduce yourself properly. I promise your real story will be so much more interesting than any lie you can fabricate based on inexperience.

  2. hey, i’m not sure yet or maybe not mature yet to understand fully of what you mean, but thank you. i’m still moving on from this, but now that i’ve reread this piece of confession, all of what was needed to be confessed, i guess there are holes here. and perhaps i have the right to guess that you’re full of experience. close to a lawyer or something. but thank you for being mature about this

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