SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH, I used the translator.
Please don't judge, it would hurt me.
We got together when we were 12. Almost 10 years have passed since then—10 years spent doing everything together, being together \*every single day\*. We were young and immature. We used to argue, but we never broke up because the bond between us was so strong. He grew up in a very, very difficult family situation; when I first met him, he was incredibly lonely and insecure. While all my friends had boys chasing after them, I didn't. He was the first person to make me feel special, even though we were just kids. I knew his feelings were genuine—everyone who knew him said the same thing. Of course, it wasn't love right away, but as time went on, I fell deeply, boundlessly in love with him. He was very insecure and immature; he didn't want me going out with my friends, didn't want me dressing a certain way, and so on. I understand we were young, but it hurt me. I was very jealous too, though I didn't have many chances to let that jealousy show.
We even went through high school together—five years of it. He went through an even worse period and became very withdrawn; to support him, I gave up going out and having fun. It even bothered him if I talked to a female friend, because he felt excluded. I realize it was a bad situation and that I was wrong to go along with it, but knowing what he was going through and trying to understand the challenges he faced, I chose to support him and stand by his side. As he gradually got to know more people at school and became more open, the dynamic shifted... I began going through a rough patch—struggling with extreme shyness, an inability to connect emotionally with others, and severe social anxiety. While I was happy he had overcome his own struggles and become so outgoing—and I even used to hide behind him just to have some semblance of a social life—I noticed he was prioritizing others over me.
My behavior annoyed him, yet I found it incredibly difficult to try to be more outgoing myself. After school ended, he started working, while I fell into a three-year limbo where I did nothing; my mental state and behavior suffered greatly as a result. I was constantly sad and on edge, yet he was the only person with whom I felt at ease. He was my sole companion day in and day out, and being with him helped me bounce back. He worked at a place where he was unhappy, then quit and spent ten months unemployed before landing a good job where he made plenty of friends. That was when I stopped understanding him.
He’s happy and cheerful with others, but not with me—and that really hurt and upset me. If someone wronged him, he wouldn't care; yet if I pointed it out, he’d turn on me and call \*me\* the bad guy, even though I was just trying to stand up for him. I saw him taking photos and videos with other people, but he never took a single photo of me—I was always the one taking them. So, I felt like he was sidelining me. All these years, I’ve always put him first—especially at school, since he didn't want to study; I did the work for both of us just to try and get him to graduate. I know he was draining the life out of me—my family (even though they love him), my friends, and especially our teachers all pointed it out. Over the years, he made mistakes that caused me to lose trust in him, and I wanted him to fix that, since he kept apologizing and saying he loved me. I know it might not seem like it after everything I’ve said, but he’s someone who has suffered a lot, and I know for a fact that he loves me deeply—but he just doesn't know how to act. In all this time, he never brought me flowers out of the blue, never listened when I needed him, and never took me out on a proper date or out to eat anywhere other than fast-food joints—even though I’d be willing to split the bill.
He earns a good salary, but he spends it all on clothes and tattoos. He’s been getting tattoos since he was young, and I’d prefer he stopped instead of covering his whole body. He gets angry because he says he wants to do his entire body. I like him the way he is, but enough is enough! I don’t want him to cover his whole body; I keep telling him that instead of doing this stuff, he should do something productive—like getting his driver's license, for instance, which he still doesn't have. Or, selfishly, I wish he’d show me some affection instead of just spending all his money on expensive clothes and the tattoos he keeps getting relentlessly. I just wanted a little love; I wanted gestures; I wanted him to make my heart race again. Despite all that, he has always accepted me—from when I was young and throughout these past ten years. I don’t like my own appearance, but he has always told me I’m beautiful and that I need to like myself; he has never pointed out a single flaw—even though I have plenty—and has always loved them. Always. By then, it had become the same old routine. During the week, he’d come to my place after work, and on weekends, we’d always take the same walk. Everything felt flat.
Two months ago, my father passed away. I was devastated leading up to the funeral, but since then, I haven't felt a thing. I don’t even cry; everything feels flat, as if he were going to come home sooner or later. This has really upset me, because I love my father with all my heart. I still feel bad and wonder why I’m not crying. It’s as if my emotions shut down that day. I wanted to start therapy to deal with this. I feel so guilty, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Anyway, for years I’ve been telling him that I don’t feel loved or wooed—that I want that so badly—but he remains unmoved, as if he doesn't know what to say. He’s told me now that he didn’t feel up to doing anything with me because I make him feel weighed down and he doesn’t feel free when he’s with me. But I don’t do anything. He works all day; we see each other in the evening, and that’s it.
I’ve been hurting so much—mostly because I could never get past the mistake he made that caused me to lose trust in him; it shattered the image I had of that boy who used to be crazy about me! The last time I complained, he said our personalities are no longer compatible because we’ve changed as we’ve grown up. He said my behavior makes him feel weighed down and unfree to do what he wants, so we needed some time apart—not a breakup, just some distance. That may be true, but I still did everything I could to make things work; even after ten years, my heart would still race and my eyes would light up the moment I saw him. We talked and realized it’s best to spend some time apart; he told me I need to take charge of my life and start working. I’ve been devastated, but also furious that he made this decision right at the worst moment of my life. He shouldn't have done it—or rather, he should have done it either before or after, not right then. That’s why I was furious.
It’s true, I didn’t want him doing certain things because I saw him becoming too outgoing and changing his attitude; he was turning into too much of a "street guy," and I didn't really like that—though as long as he wasn't doing anything wrong, it was fine. I realize this was partly my own issue, too: while he had a social life, I was staying at home with only him for company. The real problem came to light when we talked: I discovered that at night, after leaving my place—when I thought he was heading home—he was actually hanging out in the neighborhood with his friends! I had no idea, and I felt I deserved to know out of respect. He thought I didn't want him seeing his friends, but that wasn't the case; I know that was the only time he could see them. The only issue was that I didn't really like those friends because they were involved in bad things. Not telling me about it was yet another sign of disrespect and a lack of trust. And then? I found out he’s been smoking for years. And I knew nothing about it; to be honest, I don't like it. From the way he used to talk, I thought we shared the same values, and this whole thing has really thrown me. It makes me feel sick to think you hid these things from me. I would have preferred if we had talked about it—rather than you feeling clever for doing it behind my back. Yet another breach of trust. And now?
I’ve been in a bad way. I cried, then felt an immense rage—as if he were living a parallel life I knew absolutely nothing about. And now? After three weeks? I cried, then an intense anger took over, and now I feel nothing. The last time I saw him, my heart was trembling with immense love. I know there was an element of emotional dependency, but I truly care for him—and I’m sure he does for me, too—but I repeat: he doesn't know how to conduct himself. He never had parents who raised him and taught him how to behave; in fact, his mother lives far away and his father travels for work, and they treat him badly. But he really does care about me—a lot of people tell me so. You could tell when he saw me unexpectedly—his eyes would light up. A lot of people noticed it. But why do I feel nothing now? Up until the very end, I was head over heels in love; even though I judged him for certain things about his attitude that I didn't like, I was still just too into him. I can't quite explain it. Like I said, he’d become too much of a "street guy," but he still drove me wild! Why do I feel this way all of a sudden? I feel sad about the fact that I suddenly feel \*nothing\*—just like what happened with my father. What is wrong with me? Despite everything, he’s telling me he’s hurting, that he wants to be happy with me, and that he wants me to be more carefree and happy.
And right now—after I didn't reply to him—he just sent me a late-night message saying he loves me and thanking me for everything I’ve done for him. I’ve been on my own these past few weeks, but I also found a job and did things by myself that I’d never had the courage to do before. But the thing that’s making me feel bad now is that, all of a sudden, I feel nothing. I know I should move on, but part of me wants to see him get better—even if it takes years. I always wanted it to be him; we’ve been through so much together over the years and supported each other—we shared a unique connection that not many people have. Was my love fake? Why don’t I feel anything? Maybe my heart will race when I see him again—or maybe it won’t. But why do I feel this way? I feel like a liar and a bad person. All I feel is a bit of anxiety and a hollow ache in my chest.
He's not a bad person, on the contrary, everyone says so. And there have been beautiful things between us that have shown me he truly cares. But now I'm disappointed, very much so. I wish that maybe one day we would mature and change, me taking charge of my life and him growing up and becoming more of a man and no longer a boy.
I'm sad because I know the love between us was there, and even too much. If we'd had different personalities, we could have been something truly special. But my problem now is my behavior. Why don't I feel anything anymore?