Hi! I love ur account! I was wondering if I could get an imagine with Jonathan where the reader finds out that they have BPD( if you are still comfortable to write about that of course!) thanks!
You walk out of your psychiatrist’s office in utter disbelief, with a note in hand to let the lady at the front know you need a new appointment scheduled and you need to start therapy.
After dropping off the stuff and setting up an appointment you decide to call your mom to let her know that you needed some time before telling her what happened. You then called your boyfriend Jonathan asking if he could pick you up. He gladly said that he would.
You waited for him for what seemed like ages. You waited and you thought. You thought about how much you didn’t want it to be true, how much it seemed to fit, how much it obviously should’ve been wrong. You waited and you thought. Eventually, Jonathan pulled up.
Sitting down in the passenger seat saying nothing you reach for Jonathan’s hand. You know he won’t pry, won’t ask. You know he’ll wait until you decide to tell him, you don’t want him to wait. He needs to know. He needs to know he’s dating a freak…
“They said I’ve got a personality disorder,” you croak out, (e/c) eyes filling with tears. Giving a light nod Jonathan replies, “Did they say what kind?” Closing your eyes you let the tears roll down. Gulping you open your mouth, take a deep breath and say, “Borderline. I’ve got Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD for short. They said I meet almost every criteria.” You’re almost sobbing now, you turn to Jonathan only to be met with nothing, his eyes still chained to the road ahead of him. “Jonathan, don’t you know what this means? You’re dating a freak! I’m a freak of nature, this isn’t normal. I’m not normal. I shouldn’t even be alive,” you told him. You put it all out there, everything you thought about yourself in this moment. He almost crashes the car.
Clenching his jaw he pulls over. “(Y/N). (Y/N) look at me,” he tells you. You don’t, too ashamed to look him in the eye. The boy shifts in his seat, “(Y/N) (L/N) look at your boyfriend right now. You are not a freak. I don’t care if you aren’t ‘normal’. I care that you’re okay, I care that you finally went to get help, I care that you have stuck with me for so long. (Y/N) (L/N) I love you! Forever, and you’re a fool if you think having a mental illness will change how I feel.”
You’re like a deer caught in the headlights. Eyes puffy, face tight around the tear trails that seem to grow wider every time you blink. Jonathan reaches both of his hands up and cups your face, leaning in as he pulls you closer to him he kisses you. Soft, sweet, and slow. He provides just enough pressure to assure you that this is indeed him and he remains gentle enough to let you know he doesn’t think of you any differently. You grab his forearms and pull away, resting forehead to forehead, “I love you too Jonathan, I’m glad you’re not leaving me.” “Never,” he responds.
He starts to drive again and you hold his hand. The journey ahead is sure to be long and tiring, but in this moment, you’re just glad he wanted to stay.
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