It was so troubling, being a teen. I felt so out of place there ... in school, at home... in my own body...
The pressure to be a good student. To be social and likable. To be attractive and straight.
I was never any of that and you saw that. And you didn’t care.
You were my friend when I realized I like girls only half as much as I liked guys. And then I realized I might like you. You pulled me out of my shell when you saw I was afraid. I realized I definitely liked you. You made feel hot when I felt ugly. I realized I loved you.
That’s probably where I fucked up, thinking back on it now...
The day I asked you out was the most nerve-wracking experience of my life. It nearly broke me when you turned me down in favor of our friendship. Of course I pretended to understand just so I could be close to you in any way I still could. I cried myself to sleep that night.
I never told anyone.
The first time you got a girlfriend I wanted to die. You seemed so happy with her. She made you happy in ways I thought I couldn’t. I pretended to be happy for you.
I still remember the first night you and her had a fight and you confided in me. I was so happy. It took everything in me to keep my sympathetic composure and not break out smiling as if I’d won the lottery.
And the night the fighting became too much and she told you she needed a break, you came to me. You confided in me again. Only this time on a more intimate level. That night I could swear I was blessed by the Erotes.
As you continued to betray her, I fell deeper in love with you. I should’ve known better. I was so stupid then I could laugh. I didn’t care that what we did was hurting her. I didn’t care that what we did hurt me as well. I loved you and I wanted so much more of you than just your sex and your friendship. But, you didn’t want that and I would have you anyway I could.
When she finally had enough, she left you and I was happy because I got to be the one to pick up your pieces when she broke you. I loved you so much. Back then, if you told me to sell my home and runaway with you I probably would have found a way to make both of those things happen despite being a teenager.
Yeah I was really stupid back then. If only I could see where I am now; if only I knew how you’d make me feel now.
After we graduated, you finally decided to put a label on our relationship and I thought I was the luckiest boy in the world. “What did I ever do to deserve you,” I thought.
I loved you so much and now... and now I’m pretty damn sure I could set you on fire at any moment.
Now all we ever do is fight and it’s always about the smallest things. It’s almost as if you’re trying to keep me at a distance. You never wanna go on dates or do anything fun together. You only wanna stay home. Watch tv and maybe cuddle. Although if I’m being honest, it feels like you only do it just to appease me so you won’t feel obligated to do much else. It’s like you only want to fuck me and use me as your feelings dump.
I honestly don’t know how much more of this I can take. Maybe things were better when we were just friends. Maybe we should’ve never met, I don’t know. I’m just tired. You never think about how I’m feeling, it’s always about you and being with your friends.
Maybe I should just stop caring. Maybe then you’ll see how it feels. You’ll know what it’s like being treated like a doormat or a throw pillow. You expect me to give you comfort whenever you need it and you throw me away when you’re done with me. And like an idiot, I let you do this to me. I share just as much of the blame.
I loved you so much, Thomas... and I don’t know how I feel about you now.
"Phil, I’m going out,” he shouted from the other room, not letting me know where he’s going of course.
This always bugs me. He knows I want to know, he knows it worries me when he leaves and doesn’t come back hours and I’m left to wonder if it’s even worth the trouble.
I look up from my journal with a blank, straightforward stare, devoid of every emotion except apathy and disappointment because at this point I don’t care that he’s leaving again, I don’t care that he’s slowly breaking me, slowly chipping away at any love I might have left for him. Yet, I am once again mentally kicking myself for letting it happen.
“Do you know when you’ll be back?” I pry, knowing full-well what kind of answer I’ll get. I know I’ll be ignored or shrugged off.
“I don’t know, whenever I get back I guess.”
So, it was the latter this time. “Right, right... see you when you get back then I guess.”
“I love you...”
No response. It’s always like this. Unless the sound of a door shutting, leaving me lonely with my thoughts is just his way of saying ‘I love you’ these days.
I deserve better, don’t I? I do, right?
I made him dinner, he said he didn’t like it, we argued for an hour over what to eat, he tried to end the argument with sex, I told him I wasn’t in the mood, he got mad, and now here we are. I go off to write my thoughts in my journal like usual and he goes off to god knows where like usual.
What am I even still doing this for? It’s obvious he doesn’t love me anymore, if he ever truly did, and I’m barely hanging by a thread.
I could leave him. He wouldn’t have anyone to walk all over anymore. No shoulder to cry on.
He would be the broken one.
And then I would be alone...
No one to tell me I look sexy, no one to tell me they need me when they’re sad... I’m not good for much else. How could I possibly leave him when I don’t even know who I am without him?
I date my journal and close it as an attempt to put an end to my recurring intrusive thoughts. I eat the dinner I made for us, and put away Thomas’ meal for later. He said he didn’t like it, but he’ll be pissed later when he comes back and he didn’t get to try it and I’m not in the mood to have that argument.
I feel kinda gross and sweaty from the heat of the argument causing my anxiety to go up, so I take a shower after I clean the kitchen. A few hours after I had finally gone to bed, I hear the door to my room creek open slowly and I already know it’s him.
He climbs into bed and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my body closer to his and resting his head on mine. I can feel him inhale my scent. It almost offends me that he thinks he’s earned this or deserves this.
“I love you, Phil.”
That’s not what I want to hear.
“Phil... you awake?”
You only love that I let you do this to me. You know it wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.
I’m so pathetic...
“... I love you, too.”
I think at this point that’s mostly a lie.
He kisses me on the cheek and falls asleep, seeming to have no care in the world how I’m truly feeling inside.
He doesn’t know he’s holding onto a broken shell of a lover with only a drop of love left.
I don’t fall asleep until and hour after he does and I wake up before he does. I need a change of scenery for a moment as I’ve suddenly begun to feel crowded in my own home.
I leave before he wakes up and go for a walk. I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t know when I’m coming back. I know I just don’t want to be here right now.