Dating While Borderline
Why I try to love men who hurt me.
I tend to write love letters to boys who treat me like crap.
This was much cuter when I was much younger.
I know, I know. I really should know better by now. Telling some douchebag I love him after he’s used me to cheat on his girlfriend, gaslit me into having zero self-confidence, or treated me like crap, is pretty dumb, and. I’m letting him turn me into the crazy ex-girlfriend, and I never even got a chance to be the girlfriend!
It’s probably a really good thing I never got a chance to be the girlfriend.
Like. Sweaty sour sheets, omelets with too much onion, and who thinks chard and tomato is an actual meal, anyway?
Like. Pretending to like to hike, pretending not to notice he always seems to need a shower or five, and pretending not to notice he’s intimidated by every single other guy within a five-block radius.
Still, I can’t stop thinking about him. Why? Because I seem to really need to have some guy to think about.
It’s a pathology. It’s an ache. It’s what happens when you give a girl a romantic heart and no one to love.
Translation: It’s what happens when you give a girl a lonely heart and no one to love her.
