I always believed I was a little irrational, maybe slightly paranoid, definitely very insecure. I knew, before I met you, that I had a habit of making up scenarios in my head which went along with what I believed about myself because it was so much easier to accept that I was unlovable and people were going to leave me someday, than hope that I might be wrong.
It saved me from getting hurt.
But the thing about you was, you played into my fears. You made every one of my worst nightmares come true and then you sat there and told me I was crazy, paranoid, a lunatic.
But stupid boy, I wasn’t crazy, not when it came to you. I wasn’t crazy when I discovered after two years of you lying to my face, that you had shared your lips with a stranger in a different country. I wasn’t crazy when you returned to me after that week away, when I was going out of my mind with worry, and I lay on your chest, gazing up at you and asked you if there was anything you needed to tell me and you laughed and dismissed it. I wasn’t crazy for being suspicious when you became friends on social media, when you liked all of her revealing pictures, when you drafted texts on scrap pieces of paper and left them scattered around your bedroom for me to find.
I wasn’t a lunatic for being hurt that you flirted with female co-workers behind my back. I wasn’t insane for being angry that you text them late into the night, when you shielded your phone from me, when you deleted messages. I wasn’t psychotic for seeing the chemistry which flickered between you when I finally met her. I wasn’t ridiculous for being upset that she spent so much of the night curled into your side, when she ignored me and then cried to you at work, saying I was a bitch.
Dumb boy, I wasn’t crazy for figuring out all of your lies before you had a chance to cover them up with more lies. I wasn’t overly emotional when I cried and shouted at you for refusing to be honest me. I wasn’t irrational or damaged for thinking the worst of you when you repeatedly showed me that it was necessary. When your need for constant validation from people outside of us, mattered more to you than building something able to last.
I was never crazy for how my mind worked around you, for doubting every word which left your lips, for not trusting you around other women, for feeling like your phone would blow our entire relationship apart.
I was cautious, afraid, I was exhausted, but I wasn’t crazy.
You were just shady as fuck.