Eight years. I’ve loved you for eight whole years. I love you more than anything in this world. You know that.

We became a couple, and I was happy, truly in love. But then, after just a month, something changed. The love I once felt faded, and I couldn’t understand why. I felt trapped, suffocated by expectations and demands. I asked you to let me go, but you kept pulling me back, asking me to change so much about myself. I couldn’t do it. My heart, too young and free, couldn’t bear to be caged. And so, I let you go. I was so sorry.

I didn’t know you were still in love with me. I didn’t expect you to fight for us. But you came to me, crying, asking for forgiveness. You made promises, spoke sweet words, and tried to convince me to be with you again. But by that time, I had moved on. I turned my back, thinking I was done. But you didn’t stop. For six months, you kept finding ways to connect with me.

Do you remember the day my friend invited us both to hang out? We tried to keep it casual, but then she sang, “Maybe this time.” That’s when it hit me. What if? What if this time, you wouldn’t try to control me? What if this time, you would accept me for who I am? What if, maybe, this time would be different?

I still remember that day I prayed at the Adoration Chapel of St. Joseph Church. I asked God, “Lord, is he the one? Is he the one you want me to build a family with? To be the father of my children? To help me become the best version of myself? Is this the sign?”

And so, I gave it a try. I thought, maybe love really is sweeter the second time around. I said yes. You were overjoyed, but I still couldn’t bring back the love we once shared. I forced myself to hold your hand, to respond to your hugs, your kisses, to show you affection, hoping it would come back. And eventually, it did. I found myself deeply in love with you again, and I couldn’t imagine losing you.

You showered me with love, spoiling me, treating me like a queen. I loved it. And when I gave birth to our first son, everything seemed perfect. But soon after, things began to change. You went back to being the man who tried to control me, to shape me into someone I wasn’t. I stayed because I loved you. Maybe you were right – maybe you just wanted to bring out the best in me. But it came at a cost.

You asked me to change the way I dressed, talked, laughed, moved, even the way I walked. And you kept saying it was for my own good, that it was for my best interest.

Now, after eight years, I find myself wondering, what happened to me? Why am I crying alone? I’ve begged you to appreciate me, to show me love the way you used to, but all I get is silence. I didn’t realize until now that all this time, our love has been a one-way street.

I’ve changed. A lot. I stood by you, believed in you, loved you through thick and thin. But I didn’t see until now that I was all alone. I didn’t realize that you weren’t truly loving me – you were demanding, controlling, manipulative and a narcissist. And I’ve tolerated it for eight years.

I’m exhausted. I feel empty. I miss the “love bombs,” the sweetness that once made me feel special. I’ve tried so hard to bring back the man I once loved, but now I know that man was never truly you. The person I long for isn’t the person you really are.

I’m drowning in anger, disgust, and sadness. Please, pull me out. Help me feel loved again. Is there still hope for us? Because if there isn’t, I’m afraid I might just give up – and I don’t want that. I don’t want to feel nothing for you, but I can’t keep living like this.

Please, help me.