Our junior year started and things were really tense between him and I, fighting the majority of the summer really took a toll on us. I actually started developing feelings for another guy while we were dating and I had never felt so awful. Picture day rolled around and I had reached my breaking point. We started arguing in the morning and continued over text and one thing led to another, I broke things off because I couldn’t do it anymore. Little did I know that was not the end of us. Unlike most couples when they broke up things were over for good, not for us. We kept going back to each other, we never stopped texting and we were still hanging out. The feelings were obviously still there so on October 30, 2016, our two year anniversary he asked me to be his girlfriend again and I said yes. After the break up and getting back together we were never perfect or the same. Both of us had hurt each other and had been nasty to each other with our words, so we agreed to work on ourselves and work on the relationship because if we really loved each other we could make it work. I was extremely happy when we got back together, but when I got back to school everyone started
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I stood there sobbing, in his old bedroom, begging to him to tell me why he grabbed me, I just said why over and over. Why did he not want me to see his phone? Why did he do it? Why am I not enough for him? We both were crying, he couldn’t answer my questions, his answers were always “I don’t know” and “You know that’s not me.” In his old room were all the pictures of us from the past two years, the picture frame I wrote on and gave to him for our one year anniversary. Every time I would start to calm down I’d see those pictures and would get all worked up all over again. That night I left his house sobbing, barely able to speak, and us being on our second
I stood there sobbing, in his old bedroom, begging to him to tell me why he grabbed me, I just said why over and over. Why did he not want me to see his phone? Why did he do it? Why am I not enough for him? We both were crying, he couldn’t answer my questions, his answers were always “I don’t know” and “You know that’s not me.” In his old room were all the pictures of us from the past two years, the picture frame I wrote on and gave to him for our one year anniversary. Every time I would start to calm down I’d see those pictures and would get all worked up all over again. That night I left his house sobbing, barely able to speak, and us being on our second