Blame, Apologies, and Self-Care

This is a strange one to write here and now, so I’m going to pretend it’s just us (though you’ll probably never read this).


You need to find your fucking chill, and this is the last nail in the coffin of our friendship (if we could have built one);

“if I lose any more friends because of you, I will hurt you”

And I know you probably didn’t mean it, and I know you’ve probably already convinced yourself that it wasn’t that serious. I don’t think you realised that you made a point to say that on the phone, rather than in message form, but I know that you wouldn’t want a screenshot of that floating around.

And I know that you don’t understand that you sounded unhinged, or that you sounded like your father (though I told you that). And I don’t know if you have come yet to realise that your behaviour, not mine, is what’s causing these issues with mutual friends. They are not being filled with lies, they are not angry because I spend hours crying to them (I don’t), they are angry because they thought better of you and it hurts them to see you like this, in this light.


I don’t think you believe what you said, but I do.


I don’t know if you would ever hurt me physically, I used to think you never would whereas now I am merely doubtful, but I believe you would try to hurt me socially, emotionally, or mentally if your actions continued to cause the break up of the core group that we’ve somehow built. And I know you know that this wouldn’t help.


And I’m angry because there are animals stuck in the middle of this, animals that do not understand anything other than complete dependency and love. Animals that have so far kept me tied to you in a strange, hurtful way because they are my children.

That’s what this is; I feel like stepmother in a divorce who is trying in vain to soak up all the punishment meted out because if I drop you I can only legally take my children. And while you take tantrums and tell me to keep them you know I can’t; you know I live in one room in a relatives house, you know its not fair.

I don’t know which is worse, that you would say that to hurt me, or that you would leave me in that actual place; that place where I have to fit 60kg (collectively) of dog, a gerbil, and myself into a single room and work full time and study part time and try to do it all without any of them suffering when you can stroll into the house in your lunch break and give them more time than I have to spare in a week in one day.


This is not my fault; I could make memes for “why you should date me etc”, sure, but in reality this has been an adult relationship and we have hurt each other at times. But this, this situation, is not of my making, and I am not sure I can, not sure I want to, and certain it is not my place to make it easier for you to the detriment of my own mental and emotional state.

And I’m certain that I shouldn’t be so afraid of saying this before I get all my stuff out of that house, that house that I ran, that house that I helped to pay for, that house that has my name on the mortgage, that you already refer to as yours.


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