And so today we finally talked. I cornered him, we sat down, and we talked.
After crying and all that, saying how I love him and how I’m mad, he told me he didn’t want to break up. I was the only one he wanted to be with. Everyone (meaning his all his friends) liked me, everyone wanted us to work out. After a while, we were sitting there, just talking and teasing each other. Making out and laughing and all the things that signaled we were gonna be okay. He said he needed space. So he said one week. I laughed and said that I thought we were gonna do three weeks.
So in the end, he said three weeks. Then we agreed on two weeks. Two weeks of space. Right before my birthday.
All was well until I looked at A’s twitter. In June, he had went to LA with his friends. And I saw she had tweeted how he stayed at her apartment and walked her to class. All the fucking way over in Riverside.
I’m not saying he cheated, but he never told me he saw A. Even though she’s his friend, this was all fucking wrong. He told me he didn’t see her when he went to LA.
And so I called a left a message saying how it was fucking wrong of him. And I texted him and told him what I knew.
Right when I think that he’s near perfect, he really knows how to ruin it for himself.
I love him, but I don’t know what to make of him anymore.
He says I keep ruining it with my arguments. No. He keeps ruining it with his lying. And it’s so fucked up for me.
And yeah, we do need space. Because now, I don’t even know how to look at him.