April 24, 2025
I wish I knew more about avoidant and anxious attachment before meeting her, I would've been able to tell her what to expect. I wish I had told her what she was getting into, that I was much more ill than I often appear. Instead, here I am realizing what I did as an attempt to be distant and preserve a way to assert that I didn’t require her love that I was too reserved to admit to needing, and openly ask for.
I bet she would call me a crybaby if she knew how much this affected me. It is ridiculous. People say I am grieving, and I am. But I am also just destroying myself physically and mentally. I feel like it is the only thing that I am deserving of at this point. I wanted to feel wanted by someone who didn’t know me, and in doing that, I hurt the one who did. I can’t live with that. I didn’t see how wrong it was until her hurt showed me the shape of what I’d done. The fact I didn’t recall doing anything else when the first thing happened and for something so terrible to happen with is so fucked. I didn’t remember until the damage was done, and now all I can do is live with it.
Over Winter break, I wanted to kill myself, even while being in such a nice place because swimning with a prosthetic made my bottom dysphoria crippling. I felt like a freak. I wanted so badly to be sexually desired, and chose the safety of a stranger’s gaze over the fragile truth of hers. I wanted a woman to want the thing I hate most, without needing to know the rest of me. I wasn’t looking for love. I was looking for someone who’d want me (and find me and my fucked body attractive) without context. Then continued to entertain the random for no justifiable reason. It is fucked. I am sure I would feel the same way she feels if something like this happened to me. I want to hurt myself in return for her pain. Seriously, I don’t understand why I kept entertaining her. I hate myself. None of the bullshit I have done was ever worth losing someone so important to me. I am so fucking stupid and I am sure me pounding my head into the wall out of anger doesn’t help. Then the terrible toddler meltdown, it wasn’t her fault, and she knows. She just didn’t want to be held responsible for any stupid shit I did to myself.
I wish so badly that I could tell her that I wasn’t trying to hurt her, that I could take all the bullshit she deals with away from her and put it on myself instead if it meant she was free. That I was just trying to survive the way I saw myself. But because of my idiocracy, she’ll never understand, and the truth will die with us. (Specifically, die with me, as everyone is aware of her truth rightfully.) To hurt someone you hold so close is to wish death upon yourself, that is all you are left with in the end. You and the hate you have for yourself. I liked myself better when I was around her. She always made things better, even when it seemed like that wasn't the case, things would have gone worse without her there. TLDR- I craved a stranger’s desire to silence my self-hate, being ignorant of the one I truly love. I would rather not be forced to live with myself than live with the fact that she will never know or care to hear my truth. That is why I am so close to trying some stupid shit. I’ll have to live with the pain your ignorance caused.
I was never able to meet her expectations. not as a lover, not as a friend, not as a man.
She’s gone, and I’ll never have the chance to make her understand.