Don't Always Believe What's On The Surface

(Post 9 of 9)

I got really good at hiding what I was going through with F. All the pain, all the sadness and fear hidden behind a smiling face. I never talked about our relationship. If I did mention it, it was always brief mentions of how much I loved him and how happy we were; issues worked through, but nothing about the threats, the jealousy nor control. No, all of it was buried deep inside of me.

No one saw the tears. No one saw the cruel words. No one saw the manipulation.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he took over every aspect of my life. I gave him my heart and he used it to break me down, to take control. He used my love against me.

I was so ashamed.

I had always been strong and independent. I thought I was strong and independent. The truth is I always give my heart freely, hoping for acceptance and love in return, only to end up in heartache. I just want someone to love me, someone to share my life with, someone to grow old with.

With every photo I posted, every positive affirmation, I was denying my reality. I was trying to wish a happy life into existence. During the "off" months, I did everything I could to move forward, to live my life. I used those affirmations to remind myself to keep going.

It was easier to fake happiness and strength rather than admit the truth. There were, of course, moments I was happy. When he would leave me alone and I stopped worrying about what he would think, what he would say. I tried to rebuild my life in those months. But then he would come back and wreak havoc. Eyes filled with tears as I rode the train home, crying myself to sleep, even my phone gave me anxiety; afraid of getting a text message from him. How would he put me down this time? What mean thing would he say? What threat would he make?

The truth is, I have always kept things buried inside me. I'm supposed to be the strong one. I'm the one that's supportive, a great listener. Very few people have ever seen me break down. I'm the one that's always there for everyone else. But who's there for me? No one. No one is ever there for me. There is no one I can count on.

So it was easy for F. I wasn't going anywhere: I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. All I could do was put on a happy face and let the tears roll in private. Because really, that's what I've always done.