Babe. For real.

 Letter to myself:

Babe. For real. Have you read every blog entry, every google sheets doc, every open office doc, every reddit post? Have you read everything you've written about your relationship?

About how he makes you feel like a saltine cracker. About how he cheats on you and lies to you. About how insecure me makes you feel, how blamed, how tolerated.

Have you actually read this shit? You have the biggest problem I've ever seen with rose colored glasses, making all the screaming red flags just look like flags.

If you're actually impartial, and just read what you've written over the past few years, you'll realize literally nothing has changed. You're still just as fucked up over the same old things as you were three years ago. Not a damn thing has changed. You're so, so unhappy and beaten down.

Why are you wasting so much time on this idiot? It's funny, looking back on the Ben relationship. At the time it felt so loving and so true and so real. And now, looking back, it's just this cringey sort of embarrassment that you ever gave that person the time of day.

You're starting to feel it now. You're starting to feel the cringey embarrassment, about T. Every new journal entry that you find makes you feel it. How embarrassing, that that person treated you like that over and over again for so long, and you still stayed. Chemicals, man. They do weird things to your head. 

For the first time, truly, you're falling out of love with him and seeing him as he really is, not as the person on the pedestal. And what you're seeing is really gross and disappointing.

Good for you. That dude is gross and never deserved a moment of your time.