Jake :')

I'm so confused, but I'm really not. Maybe it's all in my head. I want to believe him, but I don't. Things are changing. In the beginning, it was perfect. I was still in my cocoon when I found him. He was beautiful, but he was stubborn and independent. The more we talked, the more I grew. Ever so slowly, he let me in, showing me parts of him no other person has ever been allowed to see. Or so I thought. We didn't know why this happened. We might never meet face to face, but here we are still. I loved him completely. I held nothing back, and for the first few months he shaped my new life. I felt special. I meant something to a man who cared so little what others thought of him. Why did my opinion matter? He cared for me, and I came to life. He gave me my wings. I relished this new feeling. His words made my heart trip, and I was eager to read every one. I couldn't get enough. I remembered what my father used to tell me when I was younger, and this WAS too good to be true. I ignored the doubts and let myself believe that this would last, that he would never hurt me. He started to act differently when I expressed my adoration. I would wait all day to hear from him, only to get a few words before going to sleep. I missed him so deeply. My heart was aching, and I was sure an echocardiogram would show all the tiny tears that no one could see. I cried for weeks even though we continued to talk. I knew I had made a dire mistake, but I couldn't stuff the words back down my throat. Gone were all the little pet names he called me, the little kisses, and the tenderness in his voice when he said my name. Conversation was wooden, and I had no one else to talk to but my journal. Every day was a struggle, but I stopped telling him how much he was hurting me. He didn't believe it, wouldn't acknowledge it. I felt like I was having conversations with myself. He assured me that he was just listening to me talk, but I knew. I felt that something was wrong. I hadn't heard him laugh in so long, that I could barely remember the sound of it. Even now, I don't know what possessed me to write him that first day, but I wouldn't go back. Sure, I wouldn't be damaged, but I would still be in a cocoon instead of a beautiful butterfly with a torn wing. I don't know how much longer I can take the pain, but I can't let him go. <3