I donāt go looking for love anymore, but I do often wonder if itās nearby
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@alhwrites
I donāt go looking for love anymore, but I do often wonder if itās nearby

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I liked you better when you felt safe to be around.
I couldnāt run to you, so I ran away from you.
He makes situations confusing because someone being confused works in his favor. Do not let this go over your head. Confusion is a gateway to manipulation. The more time you spend trying to make sense of what heās thinking or doing, the less time you spend acting. Everything with him feels like itās in the gray area because he loves being able to keep you there. If he wanted it to be clear for you, he would make it abundantly so, and that applies to anything. Ask yourself: do you even like when someone is so on-and-off with you? Do you even like having to analyze their words because they canāt just offer you clarity? Do you even like living in a constant state of uncertainty and doubt at the hands of someone who is supposed to care about you?
They always throw what they turned you into in your face. Itās done so casually, too; they call you it like itās your name. Saying it so nonchalantly makes it easier to deny the part they played in pushing you there, because when itās said like itās a natural description of you, if your ears perk up and you question what theyāre saying, you look reactive, and that only helps their victim complex. By the time we ended things, his favorite way to describe me was āmean.ā I know another common one is ācrazy.ā āAngryā and āhateful,ā too. It used to bother me so muchāwhich Iām sure he lovedābecause I know Iām not mean. I guess I can be, when I want to, but I never want to, so I try to choose my words carefully especially when Iām talking to someone I care about. Knowing that begs the question: was I mean, or just honest? Because I can admit I didnāt hesitate to call him out when he fell short on his promises. But was it really mean, or was I just making you confront things about your life and yourself that you didnāt like? His overuse of the wordā¦it made me want to grab him and shake him, and scream in his face, āWas I mean when you met me? Was I mean then? Or was I sweet, and gentle, and loving?ā We both know the answer. āMeanā is the aftermath of a careless lover. Because this isnāt me. This is a reflection of you; what a woman becomes in your presence is the most honest feedback youāll ever receive about the type of man you are.

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consider that your fear of abandonment has less to do with someone actually leaving you, and more to do with how you abandon yourself by compromising on your needs and boundaries when youāre trying to get someone to stay.
His idea of comfort was always getting away from me.
you donāt love me, you love that I sit around waiting for you because you know how valuable time is, and it feels special knowing that Iām wasting mine on you.
Just because theyāre avoidant, doesnāt mean youāre anxious. If youāre only this dysregulated in their presence, you donāt have an āanxious attachment,ā youāre having a natural reaction to the behaviors and patterns being presented to you that, by design, would disrupt your nervous system. If itās not how you show up to most things in your world, then itās not you. You feel unsafe, and with good reason. If you were anxiously attached, you would feel it in more aspects of your life, and it would affect more than one relationship youāre in. Donāt let their avoidance define your entire existence.
men think that your silence means peace because thatās what they wanted from you. they think they trained you to accept their behavior. they donāt want to be challenged into being a better person. whole time, it means you stopped caring about them like you used to. probably partly because you donāt believe they can be better anymore, and staying with them means settling for a relationshipāand a lifeāthatās less than what you want.

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I am nothing if not versatile. A month ago I was having suicidal thoughts, a week ago I was punching a keyboard, yesterday I was crying, and today I am at peace.
Heās playing emotional chess, Iām building a life where heās not even on the board.
is it silly to admit that I started texting how he texts and talking how he talks because I donāt want to give him any more pieces of me? that I donāt want him getting to experience any part of my personality anymore? Iām not trying to copy him so he thinks weāre similar. Iām trying to be similar so he thinks Iām bland.
I wish, just once, that choosing someone else could still feel like choosing myself because they were actually good to me.
if it seems like heās always at war with youā
argumentative with you, verbally combative, in constant disagreement, bickering, in an ego contest, trying to contend with you, playing devilās advocate all the time, conversations feel like youāre going toe to toe, conflict, resolutions are hard to come by, apologies without change, just a general consensus that he is against you as opposed to on your team
āitās because he is. because he is at war with himself, and you love him, he is at war with you.

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being nice without having boundaries is just being a doormat. and that unfortunately invites people to walk all over you
I sent him videos. I came up with lists of questions to ask him in an effort to understand him better. I cried. I tried to give him space when he wanted to be distant. I tried to stay close when I thought he might need a shoulder. I journaled. I cried. I initiated the serious talks. I initiated the vulnerable talks. I initiated the hard talks. I cried. I ended the relationship when that seemed like what he wanted, but couldnāt do himself. I cried. I communicated with him when I felt unloved and I told him exactly what I needed. I cried. I forgave him when he ignored me. I forgave him when he forgot my birthday. I forgave him every time he apologized and said he would do better. I cried. I did everything. I did nothing. I tried to read the room. I cried. Iāve waited almost two years for him to be ready to be a partner, and Iāve paid the expense of feeling myself slip away. My patience has cost me my peace, my softness, my worth: a pickaxe chipping away at a block of ice. But instead of creating a sculpture, these parts of me that were once whole are now just rubble on the ground. And now, Iām āmean.ā Because the gentleness with which I used to handle our conflict got lost somewhere in the number of days I was expected to have it, even after it didnāt grant the change I was hoping for. After all that, after all the underlying chaos he didnāt have to witness, after all the dysregulation his intermittent reinforcement caused, and I get reduced to āmean.ā