Thoughts of a Moody Teenager
  • Reads 1,948
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 81
  • Time 1h 42m
  • Reads 1,948
  • Votes 3
  • Parts 81
  • Time 1h 42m
Complete, First published Feb 05, 2017
TRIGGER WARNING :

I've always been overwhelmed with my thoughts, so i decided to write them down in one of the few communities that i feel completely safe in, Wattpad.
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Love Shouldn't Hurt (My Personal Experience With Emotional Abuse) by Aria_Cosmic
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Change to disclaimer: I censored their name because they were getting death threats. THIS BOOK IS COMPLETE In my younger years, I accepted toxic manipulation and emotional abuse as normal and a sign of love. I've dealt with lying and manipulation all my life but never classified it as wrong since it all came from someone I loved: my father. I never fought back because I was raised to put trust in him because we were kin. A decade later, I come across Wattpad with a warm and loving community, and through mutual friends meet THEM. We then start dating on and off and then finally break up. Before we do break-up, they made me vow to never tell anyone what I had gone through and discovered about them. I said yes without hesitation because I was still madly in love with them and stupidly loyal; but as two years pass I realize I promised to not tell anyone about their true self so they could continue to do what they did to me and to silence me because they knew I still had feelings for them and was formidably loyal. I became damage control so they could continuously drag in new weak-minded people like me and make them go through the same pain and groom them to shower them with attention every second of the day and when they didn't; they made them feel as if they were wrong. They made their lovers feel like they were the bad guy and insignificant at the same time. In Present day, this still haunts me to the point I only get a few hours of sleep. My ex isn't here now and I feel I must share not only as a way to warn readers of people like them and how his definition of love is actually far from the truth, but as way of closure for myself.
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mollitiam

19 parts Ongoing

Pages filled with thoughts I wouldn't dare say out loud. The weird, random moments that stuck with me, the people I noticed but pretended I didn't. The way I felt about things I acted indifferent to. It was all there, inked into the pages like a conversation with myself. No one would ever read it. No one would ever know the things I thought about, the things I laughed at, the things that made me roll my eyes at myself. Like how I let my gaze linger too long on that boy before groaning at my own damn self. Or how I swore I didn't care about people, but some part of me still held onto the memories of them anyway. My journal didn't judge. It just took everything in, let me spill it all out without making it a big deal. Without making me a big deal. So I wrote. Scribbled fast, let my thoughts spill onto the paper. Then I closed it, held it close for a second-like I always did-before tucking it away again. Out of sight, but never really out of mind.