u/CheesecakeOkkk

i want to change my hair color so desperately because he hates it. i don’t even know why i started caring so much about what he thinks. maybe because every time he looks at me, i search for approval in his eyes, even though i already know it’s never really there. my hair’s this golden brown, almost strawberry blonde shade, and it used to make me feel soft, unique, kind of warm but now it just reminds me of everything he dislikes about me. i want to dye it hazelnut brown, something lighter but calmer, something that might make me feel a little more like the version of myself i used to love. i don’t even want to impress him anymore. i just want to stop hating what he’s made me see in the mirror.

sometimes i wish i was someone he couldn’t hurt. but most days, i’m just… tired. tired of trying to be beautiful in someone else’s eyes. tired of carrying love that keeps breaking me down. i hate him sometimes i really do but then there are moments where i love him again, where i try to remember the person he was before becoming this demon. i used to be the girl who laughed without fear, who didn’t flinch when someone raised their hand too fast, who didn’t apologize for things she never did.

on friday, november 7, 2025, everything broke again. he physically assaulted me. he hit me like i was nothing. like i wasn’t the person who stayed through all his storms. i can still hear the sound the sound of something inside me shattering. he almost hit me with a chair, and i begged him to stop. i begged like my life depended on it, because in that moment, it actually did. the reason? i had commented under his post and said something that made him angry. i threatened to call his owner i said it out of frustration, not because i wanted to hurt him, but because i was hurting. because i needed him to see me, to understand that i was drowning while he stood there watching.

he’ll never understand why i did it. he’ll never understand that sometimes i do reckless things just to feel like i still matter to him. it’s bitter, but i know the truth this love is temporary. i’ve always known it, deep down. but when he says it, when those words come from his mouth, it feels like my heart forgets how to beat. so i never let him say it. i distract him, i make him laugh, i change the topic. i pretend like everything’s fine, even when everything’s bleeding inside me.

and the worst part is, i still want to meet him. i still want to see him again. not because i trust him god, i don’t but because i feel so alone. i have no one else. he doesn’t know that i’m dying. not in the way people think not because of something i’m doing to myself but slowly, quietly. i feel like my body’s giving up, like my heart’s carrying too much weight. and i can’t tell him. he’d never understand. he’d just twist it into something ugly. he’d beat me up again.

it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. he’s hurt me before, over and over, until the old wounds faded and i convinced myself i’d healed. but healing doesn’t mean forgetting. and now he’s given me new scars, ones that run deeper than before. i’m scared of him. i don’t say that out loud, but i am. i’m scared he’ll kill me before i die on my own. i’m scared that one small misunderstanding, one wrong word, one wrong look, could end everything.

he’s choked me. he’s slammed my head against walls and floors. i still wake up in the middle of the night shaking, hearing his voice yelling at me in the dark. sometimes i still flinch when someone walks too fast near me. i see flashes his face, the anger, the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. and even then, i hide it all from him. i can’t let him know how scared i am. i can’t let him see how broken i’ve become, because he’ll only use it against me. the fact is i can’t live without him, i’d rather die by his hands than dying alone.

and yet, i love him. i love him in a way that doesn’t make sense anymore. i love him even when my body aches from the pain he caused. i love him even when i hate myself for doing so. i don’t let him leave because i can’t handle the silence he’d leave behind. every time he says he’s done, i panic. i say sorry even when i’m not wrong. i forgive him before he even apologizes.

he’s like a living horror someone i love and fear in the same breath. he doesn’t realize how much power he has over me. he doesn’t see how much i shake when his voice changes. i’m trapped in this loop, this endless cycle of pain and hope, fear and forgiveness. every morning, i wake up telling myself maybe today will be different. maybe today he’ll be gentle. maybe he’ll look at me like he once did. but every night, i go to sleep knowing he never will.

he doesn’t change. he never will. his words cut like knives, and each one leaves a mark that no one else can see. i smile in public, but behind closed doors, i’m just surviving. i keep pretending that it’s love when it’s really fear dressed up as loyalty.

sometimes, i think he’ll kill me before life does. sometimes, i think he already has.

i wish he understood me. i wish he saw the real me the one who still tries, who still loves him despite everything. i wish he knew how much i ache for peace. i wish he loved me the way i love him not perfectly, but at least honestly. i wish i could stop wishing for him. i wish i could be free. i wish…

i want to change my hair color so desperately because he hates it. i don’t even know why i started caring so much about what he thinks. maybe because every time he looks at me, i search for approval in his eyes, even though i already know it’s never really there. my hair’s this golden brown, almost strawberry blonde shade, and it used to make me feel soft, unique, kind of warm but now it just reminds me of everything he dislikes about me. i want to dye it hazelnut brown, something lighter but calmer, something that might make me feel a little more like the version of myself i used to love. i don’t even want to impress him anymore. i just want to stop hating what he’s made me see in the mirror.

sometimes i wish i was someone he couldn’t hurt. but most days, i’m just… tired. tired of trying to be beautiful in someone else’s eyes. tired of carrying love that keeps breaking me down. i hate him sometimes i really do but then there are moments where i love him again, where i try to remember the person he was before becoming this demon. i used to be the girl who laughed without fear, who didn’t flinch when someone raised their hand too fast, who didn’t apologize for things she never did.

on friday, november 7, 2025, everything broke again. he physically assaulted me. he hit me like i was nothing. like i wasn’t the person who stayed through all his storms. i can still hear the sound the sound of something inside me shattering. he almost hit me with a chair, and i begged him to stop. i begged like my life depended on it, because in that moment, it actually did. the reason? i had commented under his post and said something that made him angry. i threatened to call his owner i said it out of frustration, not because i wanted to hurt him, but because i was hurting. because i needed him to see me, to understand that i was drowning while he stood there watching.

he’ll never understand why i did it. he’ll never understand that sometimes i do reckless things just to feel like i still matter to him. it’s bitter, but i know the truth this love is temporary. i’ve always known it, deep down. but when he says it, when those words come from his mouth, it feels like my heart forgets how to beat. so i never let him say it. i distract him, i make him laugh, i change the topic. i pretend like everything’s fine, even when everything’s bleeding inside me.

and the worst part is, i still want to meet him. i still want to see him again. not because i trust him god, i don’t but because i feel so alone. i have no one else. he doesn’t know that i’m dying. not in the way people think not because of something i’m doing to myself but slowly, quietly. i feel like my body’s giving up, like my heart’s carrying too much weight. and i can’t tell him. he’d never understand. he’d just twist it into something ugly. he’d beat me up again.

it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. he’s hurt me before, over and over, until the old wounds faded and i convinced myself i’d healed. but healing doesn’t mean forgetting. and now he’s given me new scars, ones that run deeper than before. i’m scared of him. i don’t say that out loud, but i am. i’m scared he’ll kill me before i die on my own. i’m scared that one small misunderstanding, one wrong word, one wrong look, could end everything.

he’s choked me. he’s slammed my head against walls and floors. i still wake up in the middle of the night shaking, hearing his voice yelling at me in the dark. sometimes i still flinch when someone walks too fast near me. i see flashes his face, the anger, the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. and even then, i hide it all from him. i can’t let him know how scared i am. i can’t let him see how broken i’ve become, because he’ll only use it against me. the fact is i can’t live without him, i’d rather die by his hands than dying alone.

and yet, i love him. i love him in a way that doesn’t make sense anymore. i love him even when my body aches from the pain he caused. i love him even when i hate myself for doing so. i don’t let him leave because i can’t handle the silence he’d leave behind. every time he says he’s done, i panic. i say sorry even when i’m not wrong. i forgive him before he even apologizes.

he’s like a living horror someone i love and fear in the same breath. he doesn’t realize how much power he has over me. he doesn’t see how much i shake when his voice changes. i’m trapped in this loop, this endless cycle of pain and hope, fear and forgiveness. every morning, i wake up telling myself maybe today will be different. maybe today he’ll be gentle. maybe he’ll look at me like he once did. but every night, i go to sleep knowing he never will.

he doesn’t change. he never will. his words cut like knives, and each one leaves a mark that no one else can see. i smile in public, but behind closed doors, i’m just surviving. i keep pretending that it’s love when it’s really fear dressed up as loyalty.

sometimes, i think he’ll kill me before life does. sometimes, i think he already has.

i wish he understood me. i wish he saw the real me the one who still tries, who still loves him despite everything. i wish he knew how much i ache for peace. i wish he loved me the way i love him not perfectly, but at least honestly. i wish i could stop wishing for him. i wish i could be free. i wish…