#weak man

You are a horrible person. Not by accident, not by circumstance, but by a long series of choices you made because they were easier than being decent. You are a horrible person and the tragedy is that you’ve always known it. 

That’s why the smallest conflict makes you flinch like a guilty child. That’s why accountability feels like violence to you. That’s why the simplest conversation becomes unbearable the moment it asks you to stay present. You know all of this. That’s why you hide. That’s why you run. 

You’ve spent years mistaking your emotional laziness for depth. Your mood swings for complexity. It’s almost impressive, the way you’ve managed to protect your fragile little self-myth of “I’m a good guy” while leaving a trail of hurt you insist on never looking at.

Not as your ex, but as the woman you once called a beautiful person, I’m telling you what you already fear: You recognised beauty in me because it exposed the void in you. A void you’ve been running from, not exploring, filling, or repairing.

You were quick to see who I was. I was slow to see who you are. But now that I see it, I see everything.

You are a man who cannot handle the slightest emotional mirror because it threatens the delicate fiction you’ve built around yourself. A man who retreats at the first sign of responsibility, who behaves as if affection should come with no expectations whatsoever. A man who turns every request into a burden, every truth into an accusation, every feeling into a threat.

Every emotional moment with you was a coin toss between silence and sulking. You made me negotiate with your fragility every time I tried to express even a sliver of my own. You were never dramatically cruel. Just consistently disappointing in a way that erodes someone’s self-respect slowly, quietly, like tide on stone.

Remember when you held me and whispered that your greatest fear was hurting me? Funny how quickly you proved your own prophecy true. Funny how irritation replaced tenderness.

You’re someone who can charm but cannot be accountable. A man who loves the idea of being seen as good, but never does the work to be good. You are a weak man. A delusion wearing the mask of a conscience.

I didn’t lose you. You evaporated the moment presence required effort.

This must be about my post about Charlie Spring. Yes, Charlie is a gay man. Am I aware? Yes. I've read the books. I've watched the tv show. Your claim that: "YOU CAN'T RELATE TO A GAY MAN IF YOU'RE A FEMALE," is stupid.

Am I a woman? Yes. But by that post, I was talking about HIM (his problems) and not necessarily his sexuality.

I relate to Charlie Spring in many ways. Whether it be from his eating disorder to his s3lf h)rm...