I don’t know what’s worse? To believe that the good times never really existed or that they did.
I’m reading all about the n********t. My parents have read the book and say it’s him to a t. But I’m drunk and sobbing over the love bombing memories. Was I really so stupid to believe that he loved me. During those times I’ve never felt so happy I would do anything to feel that now and to have him here but I can’t contact him…. I won’t!! But I want to. I meant everything I ever did… I loved him and I hate that I still do