ItsMe-Hecked
Student
- Dec 30, 2021
- 123
I met you at a mental hospital. I remember you had blonde hair at the time. I thought you were really cute. I remember you were shuffling an Uno Deck, and I stupidly messed it up. But, you weren't mean to me. You smiled and asked if I wanted to join the game. You left on my second day there, and I was certain I'd never see you again. My experience at that hospital without you was ruthless. Then against all odds, I found you again. It was at group therapy. I didn't recognize you at first because of your newly-colored black hair. I was too nervous to approach you, anyway. Then, you saw me and you said "you went to the hospital with me" with such charisma and excitement... I knew I met someone special. We hung out a lot at therapy. You called me your bitch, and we cuddled - you said I wasn't great at cuddling, but you didn't mind it. I don't even remember whether you liked me or not. Like, you were always in some random relationship, but we mutually liked guys, and we hung out a ton and texted until extremely late at night most days. If that's not a relationship, what is? I loved seeing Jurassic World with you, going to the mall, but I especially loved holding you when you finally got back from the hospital the second time. I missed you so much. That day when you came to my play freshman year - that was perfect. Everyone at theatre camp hated me, but you didn't mind. You loved me. We spent a few hours together in the back of that coffee place. Just singing songs from Dear Evan Hansen. You wanted to come backstage, but you couldn't. I promised we'd hang out next chance we got. Yeah... that's when things fell apart. After the show, you kissed me on the cheek and told me you loved me. You then said that you had a crush on my only other friend. Panicking, I didn't know what to do. I told you that I didn't feel comfortable with my two best friends dating, and you told me I was being too controlling. After a few days, I knew our relationship was falling apart. You said you wanted to change your name. I got confused. You said you wanted to run away; that you wanted to kill yourself, and that you wanted more weed to numb your pain. I'm not sure - I guess I just froze. I didn't want to lose you. That was when my first suicide attempt happened. I tried to make myself bleed out thorns from my garden. I had no idea how the human body or suicide worked back then. I just didn't want to lose you. I told you about it. You got mad. You said that I couldn't fucking do this to you. That I'd hurt you too badly, and that it would be toxic of me. You sent an ambulance to my house. I guess for some reason I thought I wouldn't make it. Dramatic, I know. I got back from the hospital six days later. Grateful you saved me, I eagerly messaged you. You had me blocked. The last thing you ever said to me was "go fuck yourself".
I also met you in a hospital, though through different circumstances. It was my third day at this place. Complete scary nightmare. I remember code-greens were called pretty much every hour of the day. I had to be on my feet at all times to prevent another patient from slamming a metal payphone in my face. I was up for breakfast at around 7 AM that day; four days before Valentine's Day. You weren't up until like 12 PM. Damn, I wish I could've gotten away with that. They would've upped my Trileptal times ten if I didn't wake up on time. You handed me a chess piece. "You're playing me next round", you said. It was cute. You were cute. Your hair was mid-length, blonde, wavy. Your eyes were a very hypnotic shade of hazel. We started talking. I told you about my not-so-smart suicide method of ingesting two bottles of Crest Toothpaste. You told me that you tried drowning in your bathtub. I can't articulate how cool you were to me. Maybe I didn't know you at all. Maybe I just clung to you because you reminded me of... him. Your spontaneity, your humor. Regardless, I think I loved you. I told you that I liked you, and you liked me back. We spent our last day there hiding in a room where we couldn't be seen. Just cuddling. I told you I'd text you as soon as I got back. You weren't amazing toward me, though. You mocked my BPD, called me needy. It didn't feel great, but I guess I deserved it, right? The fact that someone like you was even talking to me was something I didn't even deserve. You were doing me a favor. I texted you on and off for a month. We had some great conversations, but you seemed very... empty as a person. Did I not deserve your personality? Was I too ugly for that?
Anyway, thanks I guess. We stopped talking for two months. We started talking again, and things seemed great. We were going to hang out, and you were going to drive six hours to come and see me. And then you canceled cause your boyfriend decided that we couldn't talk. You blocked me.
We met on Reddit. You were really cool. We played the same games, we had similar life goals; we were both vegan Efilists with a passion for animal rights activism. We also had similar trauma history, growing up with emotionally neglectful parents. We spoke through texts for the first couple of weeks. I tried to ghost you, but instead of you lashing out, you just - you said that you'll be there for me. That's not something I'd experienced prior to that. Typically, people just blocked me if I said I was having difficulty maintaining the relationship due to my BPD. I guess I thought you were special. I wish I ended the relationship there. We texted each other nonstop. After about a month, we decided to start voice-calling. You weren't instantly repulsed by the way I spoke, as abnormal as it was. You told me all about your life, and I told you all about mine. Things were going well, even after I showed you my face. How does one fake care for this long, anyway? But, something you said didn't sit right with me. "Let's see where this goes." Those words echoed through my mind like an alarm clock that's stuck in a tuba inside a ginormous cave. Why did we have to see where it goes? Why couldn't we commit to something? You told me you were bisexual a week later, and I revealed that I was too. You told me that in the past you weren't open to relationships, but that now you were. For the "right person" of course. I assumed you meant me. God, what an idiot I was. You didn't want to commit to a friendship, you didn't want to commit to a relationship. I didn't need you to commit to anything at all. I just needed some fucking clarity. The clarity which you never gave me. When I tried to tell you that I liked you, you needed space. You needed space for months. Again, I should've just ended that friendship right there. But, I waited. Despite everyone in my life telling me that you were a mess that wasn't worth expending my energy on, I waited for you. Four-freaking months later, I sent you a long, four-paragraph letter about how much I missed you, and that I would change myself if it meant you could be back in my life. You took days to respond. Almost a week. I got the message. I sent you a far longer message about how much of my time you wasted. That you manipulated me to use me as an emotional punching bag, that you expected me to always be there for you, but you ignored me on the worst day of my life. You blocked me, but I'm happy we're never going to talk again. Part of me, though - part of me wishes it worked between us.
Fast-forward to last year. You were the only real-life friend I've had in years. We met at group therapy. You had really cool red hair. It was my first day at this new place. I talked in the group about how I attempted partial-hanging. I was just lying there. Contemplating whether to let the noose take me or not. God, I wish it fucking did. I felt so lonely and just wanted someone to hug me and say they didn't want me to die. After group, you offered me a hug. I felt seen. We made this a regular thing. I may have been too broken to hold a regular conversation with you for too long, but that didn't matter to me. It felt like someone cared about me. You texted me for weeks, about how you'd be there for me no matter what, and how it's important to care about others. I guess that was just love-bombing because that changed as quickly as it happened. Damn you. I noticed that whenever I hung out with you - you looked instantly drained. You became "boring". Not that I liked the other conversations you had. They were all about you bragging about how much sex you have; about how "hot" you were. I honestly do think that you were just a terrible conversationalist because let's face it. I'm not boring. I always had stories to tell, I had good jokes, and I had pictures of my pets that you "loved". You just didn't like me at all. And to be honest, I didn't like you as a person very much, either. You were fake. You talked shit about me a bunch of times, and you never even admitted to any of it. I'm truly glad I left you in 2021 because our friendship was fucked from the start.
If you read this all the way to the end, thank you.
I also met you in a hospital, though through different circumstances. It was my third day at this place. Complete scary nightmare. I remember code-greens were called pretty much every hour of the day. I had to be on my feet at all times to prevent another patient from slamming a metal payphone in my face. I was up for breakfast at around 7 AM that day; four days before Valentine's Day. You weren't up until like 12 PM. Damn, I wish I could've gotten away with that. They would've upped my Trileptal times ten if I didn't wake up on time. You handed me a chess piece. "You're playing me next round", you said. It was cute. You were cute. Your hair was mid-length, blonde, wavy. Your eyes were a very hypnotic shade of hazel. We started talking. I told you about my not-so-smart suicide method of ingesting two bottles of Crest Toothpaste. You told me that you tried drowning in your bathtub. I can't articulate how cool you were to me. Maybe I didn't know you at all. Maybe I just clung to you because you reminded me of... him. Your spontaneity, your humor. Regardless, I think I loved you. I told you that I liked you, and you liked me back. We spent our last day there hiding in a room where we couldn't be seen. Just cuddling. I told you I'd text you as soon as I got back. You weren't amazing toward me, though. You mocked my BPD, called me needy. It didn't feel great, but I guess I deserved it, right? The fact that someone like you was even talking to me was something I didn't even deserve. You were doing me a favor. I texted you on and off for a month. We had some great conversations, but you seemed very... empty as a person. Did I not deserve your personality? Was I too ugly for that?
Anyway, thanks I guess. We stopped talking for two months. We started talking again, and things seemed great. We were going to hang out, and you were going to drive six hours to come and see me. And then you canceled cause your boyfriend decided that we couldn't talk. You blocked me.
We met on Reddit. You were really cool. We played the same games, we had similar life goals; we were both vegan Efilists with a passion for animal rights activism. We also had similar trauma history, growing up with emotionally neglectful parents. We spoke through texts for the first couple of weeks. I tried to ghost you, but instead of you lashing out, you just - you said that you'll be there for me. That's not something I'd experienced prior to that. Typically, people just blocked me if I said I was having difficulty maintaining the relationship due to my BPD. I guess I thought you were special. I wish I ended the relationship there. We texted each other nonstop. After about a month, we decided to start voice-calling. You weren't instantly repulsed by the way I spoke, as abnormal as it was. You told me all about your life, and I told you all about mine. Things were going well, even after I showed you my face. How does one fake care for this long, anyway? But, something you said didn't sit right with me. "Let's see where this goes." Those words echoed through my mind like an alarm clock that's stuck in a tuba inside a ginormous cave. Why did we have to see where it goes? Why couldn't we commit to something? You told me you were bisexual a week later, and I revealed that I was too. You told me that in the past you weren't open to relationships, but that now you were. For the "right person" of course. I assumed you meant me. God, what an idiot I was. You didn't want to commit to a friendship, you didn't want to commit to a relationship. I didn't need you to commit to anything at all. I just needed some fucking clarity. The clarity which you never gave me. When I tried to tell you that I liked you, you needed space. You needed space for months. Again, I should've just ended that friendship right there. But, I waited. Despite everyone in my life telling me that you were a mess that wasn't worth expending my energy on, I waited for you. Four-freaking months later, I sent you a long, four-paragraph letter about how much I missed you, and that I would change myself if it meant you could be back in my life. You took days to respond. Almost a week. I got the message. I sent you a far longer message about how much of my time you wasted. That you manipulated me to use me as an emotional punching bag, that you expected me to always be there for you, but you ignored me on the worst day of my life. You blocked me, but I'm happy we're never going to talk again. Part of me, though - part of me wishes it worked between us.
Fast-forward to last year. You were the only real-life friend I've had in years. We met at group therapy. You had really cool red hair. It was my first day at this new place. I talked in the group about how I attempted partial-hanging. I was just lying there. Contemplating whether to let the noose take me or not. God, I wish it fucking did. I felt so lonely and just wanted someone to hug me and say they didn't want me to die. After group, you offered me a hug. I felt seen. We made this a regular thing. I may have been too broken to hold a regular conversation with you for too long, but that didn't matter to me. It felt like someone cared about me. You texted me for weeks, about how you'd be there for me no matter what, and how it's important to care about others. I guess that was just love-bombing because that changed as quickly as it happened. Damn you. I noticed that whenever I hung out with you - you looked instantly drained. You became "boring". Not that I liked the other conversations you had. They were all about you bragging about how much sex you have; about how "hot" you were. I honestly do think that you were just a terrible conversationalist because let's face it. I'm not boring. I always had stories to tell, I had good jokes, and I had pictures of my pets that you "loved". You just didn't like me at all. And to be honest, I didn't like you as a person very much, either. You were fake. You talked shit about me a bunch of times, and you never even admitted to any of it. I'm truly glad I left you in 2021 because our friendship was fucked from the start.
If you read this all the way to the end, thank you.
