post hoc ergo propter hoc

It’s been a little over three years since I’ve written in a diary, Open being my old favorite online public go-to. It’s 3 am, I’m rusty at this, and I’m exhausted and not prepared to be eloquent or terribly creative, but I feel like my first entry should briefly capture where I’m at in my life and why I haven’t written in years, etc.

I had a diary that spanned 4 years starting my freshman year of high school, written in almost daily, at minimum weekly.

I was 17 when I met him. When I turned 18, I moved in with him and his parents. 

He didn’t like my friends, he didn’t like strangers, he didn’t like any male being who liked me, platonically or not. So I dropped a lot of friends, because I loved him, or believed I did. He didn’t like that my diary had four years of recorded relationship history, so I deleted it.

Fast forward three years. I thought I was happy with who I was and who I was with. We moved states together, left our family and friends behind for a new beginning together all alone.

Last month, a week before my 21st birthday, he accused me of cheating. Told everyone we knew, called me names, all from a text message from a coworker who I’d grown close with- the issue he had was that I wasn’t allowed to have male friends.

His threats to leave me brought a weird sense of relief. When he tried to use the idea to get me to beg him to stay, I remained silent. When he asked me my feelings, I said I didn’t know, but that I didn’t think I had any. Suddenly the tables turned; he begged me to make the relationship work. I said I wasn’t capable, I’m too busy, my feelings and opinions have changed… He moved back to our home state the following weekend. 

I’m not proud of some of the cruel things I did, cruel in that I lacked empathy and emotion for someone I had loved and lived with for three years of my life, someone who witnessed major milestones like me graduating high school, getting my license, dropping in and out of city college, and most notably, moving to a new city and our first apartment. I didn’t shed a single tear while I watched a 26 year old man I gave three years of my life to cry and shout and groan and lay and pace in emotional agony.

It only took 4 months for everything to fall apart.

I’m still dealing with the consequences, but I am happy.

I hate to admit it, but that coworker with the friendly text is my new boyfriend, and I have so quickly and steadily fallen head over heels for him. 

I’m all alone in a new state living with two strange men off Craigslist, and the only real company I have is a home wrecker for a boyfriend, who I haven’t even been with for a month.

There are SO many details to all of this, that make me sound like both more and less of a cold bitch, and I’ll probably get around to them and detailing everyone and everything that has occurred over the years, but for now this 3 am summary will have to do.


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