I created a set of thoughts where I did these things. Where I treated her with respect and did most of the things I was supposed to do, though I was aware – on some level – it wasnβt to the extent that I should have been. I have no excuse or explanation or any way to try to sell my version of events, because I did not behave in the way I believed I did.
I didnβt understand to what extent I failed to do these things, but that doesnβt excuse the lack of help, trust, love and everything else. I didnβt treat her as she deserved and had the basic right to be treated. I failed repeatedly in a multitude of ways, and I never stopped up to see my own behaviour and how severely it affected her and the consequences she suffered.
I believe that in some ways, I was respectful, caring, and showed her how much I loved her. I havenβt done any of these things in any way. There might have been tiny droplets here and there, but nothing consistent or lasting. Everything was covered by my general behaviour and my own self-absorption. I was so focused on myself,
I wasnβt able to look beyond me and to how anyone else felt, or what was said, or what was experienced outside of me, and still experience. It would not be truthful of me to say that I’ve been loving. I have been too afraid of stupid things to let myself justβ¦ behave as I wanted and felt I should. It would perhaps not have been perfect, but at least it would have been genuine.
And maybe my dreams and desires were stronger than my ability to act them out? That I knew I would fuck it up. I knew I would ruin things and lose everything I wanted. Perhaps if I kept the perfect feeling all in my head – along with my βperfectβ narrative about being a victim – I wouldnβt get as hurt when things went to shits?
Iβm not entirely sure.
I am asking questions as much as answering them, and I apologise for that. I just have too many thoughts and feelings that donβt match with so much of what happened.
I know I have played the victim, I know I have manipulated and gaslit and acted in the most horrible and nefarious ways possible. Iβm not denying any of the βaccusationsβ or the facts of what I have done. I just donβt understand how I have let it all become this totally different thing in my head: A pink cloud of love and affection and care.
