I just had the most horrible fight ever…
and it wasn’t even a fight because I was the only one crying, talking and breaking down…
He was just sitting there, in silence.
I felt my heart break,
I felt the air escape from my lungs without new air coming in.
I choked on my tears, streaming down my cheeks dragging my mascara along with them.
Smearing it out on my cheeks.
I broke down so many times…
I called him names
begged him to say something
But no answer came.
I told him that I couldn’t do it anymore.
That I had been fighting so hard for the past 8 months or so.
That it felt as if he was playing a game with me, using me only for sex and company when he would have to go somewhere,
so he wouldn’t be the loser without a date.
I changed myself
gave up my sport, my writing, reading, hobbies, passions, …
Even though he didn’t literally asked me too, I did it.
Because there was never time for me to read, write or whatever, because he always wanted to be with me and when he was with me I couldn’t read, write… because then he’d get bored.
I colored my hair, started using make up, started wearing Hünkemoller underwear as a way to catch his attention.
I changed my habits.
My language and interests.
I changed me.
Because maybe he just needed a change.
I called him all kinds of mean, hurtful things.
Still no reaction.
I cried and cried and cried…
And now he just texts me as if nothing’s wrong…
And I can’t help but breaking once more..
And I wonder
Is this the end?