I Wish You Were Dead

This is going to be sort of a very morbid post. It is also something I’m not entirely proud of feeling. I don’t want to wish death on anyone, but I wish it had happened.

When I was 19 I was dating a boy. We weren’t quite at our year mark when he was in a motorcycle accident. I wish it had killed him. I was utterly devoted to him. I barely slept for two weeks while he was in the hospital. I helped him when he was out of the hospital. I put a suppository in him to help him poop. I wish I wasn’t loyal to him the way I was.

He destroyed my trust, my self esteem, he made me feel like I was crazy. He made me feel like I was in the wrong for being upset about him soliciting prostitutes, and mind you he never accepted my sexual advances. The only time he wanted me was when he was drunk.

Had he died in that accident, sure I would be devastated. I thought he was the love of my life and I thought I was going to marry him. However the pain that would have caused me would not be nearly as bad as the next two years of being with him was. He would have died an innocent man, instead he lived to be the villain.

Even now what he did to me affects me. I have an extremely hard time trusting people. My boyfriend now who is practically perfect in every way (doesn’t eat veggies though) and does literally nothing to make me think he’s cheating, I still think he is. Those five minutes he spends on the toilet? Totally cheating. The waitress he just met? They’re totally sleeping together. I try to ignore it, but those thoughts still creep in my mind.

It sucks, and I wish he was dead.