Hypocrisy
wow....
Chad didn't care when I ASKED him to read a specific post.... he couldn't be bothered to talk to me... he he didn't care to see what went on in my head, or my heart....
when we were together.
Now that we've split up, he found a way into my journal. He made a comment to me today, about something I had written in my last post. I think it was a slip to be honest... but he read it.
I NEED this journal. It keeps me sane. It gives me an outlet, where I can state feelings and fleeting thoughts as if they were written in stone, all in the name of validating myself. somehow, if it's on paper, or on a screen... it's real, and I'm not going crazy. In this journal, I have the freedom to just be. I can spout hatred, and have no one to apologise to. I can profess love, and that doesn't mean that I have to live up to it. I can express fear, and not have to worry that it will be preyed upon.
I need this, to help me sort through my own shit. I need this, because I can write to myself, and only myself. I need this.... well, I don't have to explain it. If you're reading this, you have a journal. likely for the same reasons.
So, ultimately, he has the upper hand once again. He knows how I'VE been feeling, which gives him power, and he doesn't have to respond, because he talks himself in or out of agreeing or disagreeing with me.... and he's not accountable. Not to me, not to anyone.
I've changed my password. It was the same as my hotmail password, so it was probably pretty easy to guess. This one is pretty complex... there's no WAY he could figure it out.
I feel like I've been made out to be the fool once again. With all of the things I've written, all of the vulnerability that I've exposed, all of the hurt I've expressed... he doesn't see how sacred that is. Not only that, but he treats it like it's a joke. This is NOT a joke to me. This series of pages on a website is where the my heart can be real. This is where I can sort things out and fix things up, and truly be ME.
I'm allowed to be afraid here, I'm allowed to be hurt here. I'm allowed to cry and grieve, and laugh adn scream... and I'm even allowed to be weak here. I don't have to explain, or edit, or justify why I feel the way I do, because I KNOW what I mean, and that's all that matters.
This is sacred to me, and I'd be lost without that. Chad taks about the ability to talk to himself, through introspection, and the ability to work things out in his own mind. I don't have that luxury. I need to write it down, and save it, so that I can re-read things from time to time... and remind myself why I'm on the path that I'm on. I need to make SURE that I learn from things and grow.
I wonder how he would feel if I was able to find a way to listen in on the conversations he has with himself?
Isn't it a bit hypocritical to not care what a person thinks about when you're in a relationship with them, but seek out their thoughts when it's over?
Chad didn't care when I ASKED him to read a specific post.... he couldn't be bothered to talk to me... he he didn't care to see what went on in my head, or my heart....
when we were together.
Now that we've split up, he found a way into my journal. He made a comment to me today, about something I had written in my last post. I think it was a slip to be honest... but he read it.
I NEED this journal. It keeps me sane. It gives me an outlet, where I can state feelings and fleeting thoughts as if they were written in stone, all in the name of validating myself. somehow, if it's on paper, or on a screen... it's real, and I'm not going crazy. In this journal, I have the freedom to just be. I can spout hatred, and have no one to apologise to. I can profess love, and that doesn't mean that I have to live up to it. I can express fear, and not have to worry that it will be preyed upon.
I need this, to help me sort through my own shit. I need this, because I can write to myself, and only myself. I need this.... well, I don't have to explain it. If you're reading this, you have a journal. likely for the same reasons.
So, ultimately, he has the upper hand once again. He knows how I'VE been feeling, which gives him power, and he doesn't have to respond, because he talks himself in or out of agreeing or disagreeing with me.... and he's not accountable. Not to me, not to anyone.
I've changed my password. It was the same as my hotmail password, so it was probably pretty easy to guess. This one is pretty complex... there's no WAY he could figure it out.
I feel like I've been made out to be the fool once again. With all of the things I've written, all of the vulnerability that I've exposed, all of the hurt I've expressed... he doesn't see how sacred that is. Not only that, but he treats it like it's a joke. This is NOT a joke to me. This series of pages on a website is where the my heart can be real. This is where I can sort things out and fix things up, and truly be ME.
I'm allowed to be afraid here, I'm allowed to be hurt here. I'm allowed to cry and grieve, and laugh adn scream... and I'm even allowed to be weak here. I don't have to explain, or edit, or justify why I feel the way I do, because I KNOW what I mean, and that's all that matters.
This is sacred to me, and I'd be lost without that. Chad taks about the ability to talk to himself, through introspection, and the ability to work things out in his own mind. I don't have that luxury. I need to write it down, and save it, so that I can re-read things from time to time... and remind myself why I'm on the path that I'm on. I need to make SURE that I learn from things and grow.
I wonder how he would feel if I was able to find a way to listen in on the conversations he has with himself?
Isn't it a bit hypocritical to not care what a person thinks about when you're in a relationship with them, but seek out their thoughts when it's over?