Simon betrayed me--just like my mother. I unlocked my computer for him to check on Fantasy Football, and what does he do? He goes to my history and find that I've been typing in my diary. He doesn't ask to read it, but chooses to on his own. He has no idea what I mean when I write it, and he had no fucking business bringing it up to me. FFFFFFFFfUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKK
Sometimes I just vent in this. I say the worst that can possibly be in my online journal, and write things in my paper journal that used to be far less offensive.This has shaken me up quite a bit, and I don't know what I'm going to do. Should I just say, "Oh well"?
HE LOCKED HIS COMPUTER AND WOULD RARELY--3 TIMES--LET ME USE HIS. I KNEW I NEEDED A GOD DAMNED LOCK ON MY COMPUTER.
I deserve privacy from him. My thoughts are not for him to read. He asked me why I hate him so much--duh, doesn't he know he's asking me why I "hate" him when he has READ MY GOD DAMNED journal.
Betrayed
Lesson learned
Stupidity
Anxiety
Lack of trust-never trust anyone.
Well, he fucking just broke us up. Oh, funny, he just said, "put that in your fucking journal."
I don't hate him. I have put up with a lot to have gotten this far with him. I help him, run his errands, keep him company on the weekends, and I love him. Love and hate are a fine line to walk. I am sorry to have hurt him, but I need to have an outlet to vent.
He failed to mention/notice anything in my journals that was good (at least he didn't point anything out), or notice that I have thoughts of hurting myself. Selfish. He thinks I'm with him for financial support!! After all the mental support and support in helping him with his homes--he is saying I need him financially? I was actually PROUD of him for buying stamps yesterday. Stamps!
I guess that my heart and body feel disgusting. My soul is black and I deserve pain. I hate all there is about me. My journal is a reflection about how horrible I am. No colors reflect off me. I am a black tarry hole. I wish someone would hurt me physically--it's so much better than spiritually/mentally for me. I cut and hurt myself the other day and that worked for forgetting.
He has no idea sometimes. I am angry, and he is all puffed up. I am not going to write more about this topic and grind it into the ground.
I am going to art class today, and I need a haircut. I'm starting to look like Mortissa (sp?) ever since I dyed my hair black.
I feel scared, alone, and hollow again. Numb--but not comfortably. I'm sad.
