the man i’ve been writing all this poetry about recently, a man i was dating for 5 months, a man who told me he loved me and wanted to marry me
most likely has antisocial personality disorder.. which is the clinical diagnosis for being a sociopath.
and it’s changed the way i look at life and myself to know i fell in love with a sociopath. to know i believed the lies of a man who was playing me in some sick pawn game. to know that we ended things nearly two weeks ago, and he has probably not thought of me since.
i have reevaluated every text, every kiss, every smile from him, and everything makes sense now, yet nothing makes sense. and my heart is broken yet full because i finally understand, and my god, i am finally free from him and his abuse and hurt. but if all this was was abuse and hurt, there was no true love underneath it all, how can i live with myself for staying for so long?
humans are so naive and fragile. we don’t want to believe evil exists. but i am here to tell you that it does. evil exists in the soul of a man with the most perfect freckles, sparkling blue eyes, and the softest lips. evil exists in a man i thought was my soulmate.
but then… there’s the psychology major in me, who realizes he is sick. he has a personality disorder. he didn’t ask to be this way. and it makes me want to not hate him. but hating him is so important for me and my growth. i am so conflicted.
word of advice:
don’t ever fall in love with your drug dealer
because the lines get blurred
and you don’t know what makes you feel good anymore
is it the white lines or their kiss
is it the weed or their touch
all i know is i want more
and if i have to keep buying drugs to buy his love too
then i’ll go broke before i stop
i’m done leaving my chest open for those to plant in it what they’d like,
because when they rip it all out
some of the roots get stuck in my soil.
and fuck i can still feel it,
i can still feel it all,
and i don’t want to feel anything anymore.