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  • By girly-d
  • On 09/03/2018

I'd only popped out to the shop.

The fridge and the cupboards were bare. We needed something for dinner and so I left him in charge of making the bed while I went on a quest to feed us both.

When I got back, my boyfriend was drunk.....I'd only been gone fifteen minutes.....

It's doing me in.

He's crying in the living room....when he's not just sat there talking to himself.

I go and make coffee. Sit on the bed. Wondering for about the millionth time exactly why I am hellbent on putting myself through this shit.  And I really, really do not have the answer right now.

Am I just clutching at straws here? Or do I just like the pain? Because there seems to be an unlimited supply of that if I want it. I'm in love with a person who insists on lying to me.....when just over an hour ago, I told him that I needed him to be honest. That as long as we had that then maybe we would be ok.....because I really, truly want us to be.

I can feel myself turning off to him. So for now he can sit there and cry. Because I'm pretty much done with trying to make him feel better. I'm feeling equally as shit and I don't see him doing anything at all to offer me even the teeniest glimmer of hope or re-assurance that he is worth me sticking around for. He's just sat on the sofa talking codshit to the invisible people we apparantly have in the living room.

It's not a good sign, my turning off of my emotions. Or maybe it is. Maybe it's exactly what I need to be doing right now. Before I get irreparably damaged by this man.

I woke up this morning feeling a hundred years old. The last four days and nights have been horrendous emotionally. I've shopped, cooked and cleaned pretty much 24/7 looking after a guy incapable of getting out of bed.....unless its to track down the secret stash of vodka he has dotted randomly around the flat and throw it down his neck before climbing back under the duvet covers.

I'm pretty sure I should be done with this. I should have left him yesterday. But I didn't. Because I love this man and I'm trying to stick by him....

But I'm wasting my breath. It's a pointless exercise. Because I can't leave this guy for fifteen minutes by himself and trust him not to drink. 

He's a grown man. He just needs to start acting like one.

And in about fifteen minutes time, he'll be a grown, single man.

Because I'm done.

Except I'm still sat hour after writing this. At the kitchen table. Listening to my boyfriend throwing up in the bathroom. 

Like a fucking idiot.....

not the slide mental health me myself and i inner diva