To His New Girlfriend,
You probably hate me. You probably saw nothing but his emaciated figure after weeks of turmoil and angst. You probably heard nothing but the pain in his voice, and the catch in his breath when he described the torture I put him through. I would hate me too. But I have nothing but hope in my heart for you.
I hope he never lies to you. I hope you are never disappointed when something he has promised never comes true. I hope he never persuades you to move halfway across the country when your heart is still at home. I hope that you only ever move for your future, not for his.
I hope that if you do move somewhere, and you struggle, he is always there for you. I hope he never leaves you night after night after night as you cry in your bed, wondering where he's gone, what he's doing, why you are there. I hope he takes you in his arms and tells you that everything will be okay, and if it isn't, that you'll leave. Because you and your relationship is more important to him than himself. I hope he proves that to you every day.
I hope that he doesn't drink himself into oblivion at every opportunity. I hope he doesn't encourage you to drink and take drugs to rationalise his own behaviour. I hope that he never gets so angry that he screams until the windows of your world shatter. I hope he always remembers the night before.
I hope that you share the housework. I hope that he picks up his own clothes, and he offers to cook, and he does the washing. I hope that when he finishes work before you, he does something special for when you arrive. Nothing big, nothing dramatic, just something special.
I hope that if you are ever so ill you can't leave the bed for months, he will stay and look after you. I hope that he doesn't forget to pick up your pills, I hope that he doesn't mistake the fact that you are too weak to form words as an excuse to gamble your savings away.
I hope that he never steals from you. I hope he never uses your bank card in secret. I hope he never persuades you to sign a contract for him, then refuse to pay. I hope the debt collectors never come to your door because of him.
I hope he showers. I hope he fucks you more than once every four months. I hope that he never humiliates you in front of your parents. I hope that he respects you, and the people you love. I hope that you never have to watch him waste away because he refuses to eat. I hope you never have to watch, powerless as he drunkenly binge eats until he is physically sick, and I hope you never have to sit through the week of voluntary starvation after a binge.
I hope he listens if you decide it's over. I hope he doesn't push you into trying again. I hope he doesn't try to turn your friends and family against you. I hope he accepts it. I hope that he never has mood swings, from tears to spittle flying with fury, to laughing, in the space of a minute.
I hope he never follows you. I hope you never wake up to see him at your window. I hope that he never doubles back on himself and climbs through fields and gardens to watch you. I hope that when you tell him through your tears to leave, that he leaves. I hope that you are not so scared that you call the police, and I hope you are not so scared that you don't press charges.
I hope that when he leaves, he doesn't terrorise you by text. I hope that he doesn't try to rub his new life in your face. I hope that he doesn't play mind games that leave you exhausted from lack of sleep, five kilos lighter and a nervous wreck.
You probably hate me. You probably saw nothing but his emaciated figure after weeks of turmoil and angst. You probably heard nothing but the pain in his voice, and the catch in his breath when he described the torture I put him through. I would hate me too. But I have nothing but hope in my heart for you.
I hope that he will change for you.
