He told me that his ex-girlfriend used to be in a violent relationship. He said the boyfriend used to beat her, scare her, stalk her and mentally abuse her. He started to sweat and I thought he might cry as he said this. He seemed pained as he went through it, as if he actually was there. I saw him clench his fists as he spoke of how this boyfriend used to lock her out of the house if she was home late. I just sat there saying "Poor girl, poor thing", like a fucking idiot- what do I know? There was this long awkward gap after he finished and I lay there, looking at him; aggravated with this hurt look in his eyes. He said that one night his girlfriend had told him he was in the area, that she was scared. And he had found out where he was and in the pissing rain he ran to the guy's house, with a hammer and no shoes on his feet, overcome with rage, ready to brake the guy in half. Luckily he wasn't there, but he smashed the guy's car windows through and every downstairs' window of his apartment. But he didn't even run, he posted a note through the door saying it was him. And in the morning the police took him into custody.
Although I understand it- I understand the anguish and the pain he would have felt, and the bravery and the fierceness he had displayed, I feel gutted. What he did was the most selfless thing he could have done- he threw caution to the wind as he jumped in head-first, arms flailing, anger everywhere. Revenge and passion. I feel sick and winded by the actions he displayed in an uncaring truly romantic fashion... but before me and to someone else.
I feel truly devastated because I know he wouldn't do it for me.
Four days of depression follow. I cannot even tell him why.
Four days of depression follow. I cannot even tell him why.
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