So I met this guy. This amazing guy. He makes me laugh, even when I don’t want to and smile so big my face aches. He tells me I am beautiful and that he loves me. He gives me the sweetest nicknames that make me feel like I am loved and wanted and his. He makes my life better. He gives me courage to face my deepest fears and the strength to keep fighting even when the road ahead looks impossible to conquer. He supports me and encourages me. He is the reason I smile. The reason I keep going despite a constant desire to just give up. He has become my world.
But this guy has two faces. There is his face. The face I am hopelessly in love with. And the other face. The face that is unrecognisable to me. It appears without warning and it scares me. It makes my stomach churn till I feel physically sick. It makes me feel worried and anxious and on edge. It makes me feel down about myself. It hurts me. I hate the second face. But it is still his face and that is hard.
He is my Jekyll and my Hyde.
I love him more than words could ever express. But the pain his other face causes can be too much to bare at times. It’s agony. I live in fear. Walking on eggshells, feels like walking on Lego. It terrifies me. The thought that the other face could break through at any moment.
I feel like it is my fault. It makes me feel that way. I am to blame. It is because of me that the second face exists. I am the one who brings him out. I don’t mean to. I never mean to but each time it makes an appearance it seems to be as a result of something I have said or done. I try my best to change. I try my hardest to be better. To stop being the kind of person that changes my love into the monster that is the second face but he keeps coming back.
My love does not see what I mean. He does not believe in the existence of the second face, only that if there is one, it is my fault it exists and that pains me even more. I don’t want to lose sight of my love’s face. It brings me such joy. But I feel as though I am fighting in a war that I can never win. I shall always be in the wrong.
Could I be that bad? Could I be bad enough a person and lover to cause such a creature to emerge from the beautiful face of my love? Am I to blame for the suffering I am enduring? It feels as though I am. It haunts me. It swims around my head torturing me to no end. That only makes the beast madder.
I love him, with all my heart. But he is breaking mine.