OK, so these are obviously not my notes on the romanticism module . . .
The truth? It’s Thursday night, late. I’m sitting at my laptop, and it tells you everything that my hands are actually shaking and I’m hiding this in an ‘essay prep’ folder in my coursework files because I need to be as sure as I can that Alex won’t somehow read this. Find this.
Paranoid? Going off the rails? Maybe a little bit of both. I don’t know.
All I know is that I am doing this, writing this I mean, because last night we had the worst argument ever and I have no one to talk to about it. He was off-the-scale angry. Alex. My supposedly perfect boyfriend. Not physical, he didn’t hit me or anything, but he did for the first time actually scare me. I honestly had no idea his temper could be that bad.
I’ve actually never seen anyone rage like that tbh. My parents don’t really fight. I guess I’m lucky that way. They’re more sulkers. They don’t even raise their voices; they just hole up in different parts of the house when they’re upset. Until it blows over. So I’m not used to this. I don’t know how to handle it, what to even think. And I have NO idea what to do . . .
I haven’t written anything like this – like a diary, I mean – since I was a kid. I blog sometimes. I rage and rant about politics all over social media. Words are how I process things. This feels a bit childish, actually – the diary vibe – but I can’t post this stuff anywhere and I just don’t know how else to handle it. I keep picking up my phone and thinking I should call someone. Mum? No. Maddy . . . But I can’t do it. I don’t know what I’d say. And if I’ve made too much of everything and Alex and I are fine again, I won’t want anyone to know it ever happened.
It’s just my mind is all over the place. Alex is always saying I overreact. Over-think things. Maybe I do . . . Maybe that’s the real problem here. Mum’s been telling me for years to ‘go away until you calm down’ whenever I get wound up, so maybe I’m actually the one at fault? Maybe I do just overreact . . .
But this thing between me and Alex felt really serious and I feel we’ve sort of crossed a line, and I can’t figure out who is on the right side of the line – who is the most in the wrong. Him. Or me.
So – deep breath. The story.
It all started because I decided I couldn’t go on without at least testing my theory （paranoia?） about Alex hacking my Facebook profile. Even writing that sounds terrible, doesn’t it? He says I’m paranoid and sometimes I worry he’s right. He says I see things that aren’t there. Anyway, whatever . . .
I couldn’t help getting worried because some really, really odd things have been happening lately with my social-media accounts. So, a couple of times I’ve sent Maddy photos after a night out by DM – just for us. We’re not on Insta or anything, we’re more private like that. Just stupid and completely innocent stuff. Us doing vodka shots. Us pouting and making faces for selfies. Usual nonsense.
Alex has always – right from the start – been a bit weird about my girl nights. I used to think it was sweet that he worried about me getting home safely. He made me text him when I got back to the flat. So he would know I was safe. I liked it. I probably even encouraged it because it made me feel looked after. It was a bit like when Mum used to wait up at home – a part of me was irritated and another part was pleased she cared that much.
And then with Alex, the ‘checking in’ escalated. It started to be every time I did anything – even completely safe stuff. Not late at night. I tried to say there was no need to text if I wasn’t waiting, or walking on my own in the dark or whatever, but he still pushed it. At first, I realised that it was partly my fault because I said that I’d liked it to begin with.
This last term though, it’s got much, much worse – to the point where I’ve felt he was being borderline controlling. I also kept noticing him looking over my shoulder when I was on my phone or my computer, so I put a password lock on my laptop. Then, after I did that, I realised it wasn’t normal to feel the need to do that and so I told him. He felt really bad. He said it was only because he loved me so much. I let it go but I did say it was important we trusted each other and that we should have our own lives as well as our couple life. He seemed a lot calmer for a bit and I thought things were OK. Sorted. I started arranging a few more girls’ nights with Maddy, to sort of test that he was genuinely pulling back and giving me some space. And that’s when the weird stuff with Facebook started happening.