Loving a Sociopath

I hate that word.

“Sociopath.”

It makes you sound like a complete monster.

Like some serial killer that we hear about on the news.

I don’t think you’re a monster.

Well, I didn’t used to think that you were a monster.

Because when I think of monsters I think of horrifying creatures that reside in my closet and only come out when I’m having a nightmare.

I don’t think of a handsome guy with nice hair sleeping in my bed and whispering “I love you so much” over and over and over again.

No, when I used to think of a monster, you never came to mind.

That changed.

I now see you for what you really are.

A sociopath.


 

You’re someone who feels absolutely no remorse.

Someone who could hurt me repeatedly over the course of a three year relationship.

Someone who feels some sick type of happiness whenever you meet your next victim.

Someone who hurts people

Badly.

Someone who hurt me

Badly.

Someone whom I loved

Badly.

I sure know how to pick ’em, right?


In my defense when I met you, I was 12 years old.

I didn’t even know what a boy was.

Let alone what love was.

I saw you and I was instantly enchanted with the firm way you held my hand during our first hand-shake.

The way your blue green eyes looked straight into mine as if you had known me for my entire life. Just as if we both knew right then that we were made to be together.

That thought stayed with me until I was 19 years old (much longer than I’d like to admit).


 

 

Only after I moved off to college and faded away from you did I realize that something about our relationship was just…

off.

I started having flashbacks that involved you and certain parts of our relationship that haunt me to this day.

And as much as I hate to say it,

I remember it all. 

I remember our very first “date” when I  was 15 and you shoved your hand down my pants in a public restaurant and I started crying.

You hadn’t even kissed me yet.

I remember when you screamed at me and told me you were going to hit me with your car because I couldn’t buy you dinner that day.

I remember you never taking “no” for an answer.

Not once.

I remember you saying horrible things about my family and alienating me from everyone I loved.

I remember things that I will probably never repeat for the remainder of my life.

I remember it all.

And I’d give anything to forget every last one of those memories.


 

What I still don’t understand is,

why?

Why me?

I loved every single piece of you

Even the dark ones.

The world has treated you horribly and I know that.

I was sitting there right beside you, holding your hand as it all took place.

And I was there as you intentionally hurt me over and over again so that I’d feel as horrible as you did all the time. 

You’ve had a hard life.

 

And I thought that if I could take even a shred of discomfort away from you,

If I could’ve taken any of the hard hits and spared you any second of pain,

I would’ve.

I allowed you to take advantage of me for years because I was 15 and I thought that I was doing the right thing because I loved you.

I was wrong. 

Love is not allowing someone to abuse you so that they can feel empowered and in control. 

 

And I’ve been terrified of you ever since the day I realized that you are a complete sociopath.

Because if I could recall every single one of my worst nightmares,

They’d always involve you.


 

I’m not sure when I’ll let go of the fear and move on.

I’ve been working on it for a while.

You’ve made me completely incapable of having anything close to a healthy relationship.

I hate that.

I just want to be happy.

I just want to move on.

I just want to let go and completely forget everything that has happened.

But we both know that’s impossible.

So instead I’m trying a different and sometimes unpopular tactic,

Forgiveness.


 

I forgive you for taking advantage of my innocent heart and attempting to destroy any piece of happiness that has ever come my way.

I forgive you for completely skewing my view of love to the point where manipulation should just be expected in any of my relationships.

I forgive you for saying horrible things about my family and for damaging my relationship with my mother.

I forgive you for making my high school experience an absolute living hell.

And I forgive you for taking out all of your pent up anger on me.

Me. 

The person who loved you more than anyone else ever had.

I forgive you.

But it’s not for your sake,

No.

It’s for me. 

Because I refuse to be your victim any longer.

I refuse to allow you to be my worst fear.

I refuse to believe that everything you did to me for those three years was out of “love”

I refuse to believe that’s love.

I refuse to believe that is anything close to love.

And I refuse to let this experience define me.

Because no matter how much hate and hurt your existence puts into this world,

I will stay a loving, merciful person.

I refuse to change.

I refuse to become as hateful as you.

So instead,

I forgive you.

 

 

 

 

Facebook – Becca Tremmel

Instagram – @littlelionbecca

Twitter – @BeccaTremmel

 

 

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