The Truth.

I was going to write a whole post about how I came to know this information and everything, but I've realized it's not important. Well, it is, but the information is more important than how I came to find out. I'm not making sense. Let me just put it out there.

He cheated.

And not only did he cheat on me with one girl (which would be bad enough) he cheated on me with two girls. At the same time. A month ago.

Well, damn. I feel like a fool. I loved him. I loved him. I still love him. And he fucked some other girls.

The way I found out, by the way, is one of the girls he cheated on me with called me to tell me. I was shocked and upset. Immediately I hung up. Apparently the girl called him, because he called me. And he admitted to it. And also told me that if the girl hadn't called me, I would have never found out.

During all this, he has admitted that he still loves me and wants to be with me. Can you confuse me anymore, dude?

Obviously, I haven't been dealing with this very well. I spent Tuesday (I found out late Monday night/Tuesday morning) and Wednesday being pissed. Very pissed. He told me Wednesday to please not tell his mom because she'd kick his ass. I texted his sister and told her. And his sister told his mom. Technically, I didn't do it. His mom facebook messaged me and said her son was a stupid ass and I would have been a good daughter-in-law. His sister texted me that her dumbass brother is a whore.

Thursday I wasn't mad. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't happy. I was confused and hurt. I guess the shock and pissed-ness had worn off. I'm deep in the depression and hurt now. I'm trying to claw my way out. It's just hard.

People keep telling me how I should feel/what I should do/what I should think. But they don't get it. They're not me. They're not in my shoes. Admittedly, I've done some stupid stuff since I found out that he cheated on me. I have. And I know they're stupid.

I'll be honest, I've got some pretty deep cuts on my leg. I was so hurt by everything that I got a boxcutter (not smart) and cut until I couldn't feel anything. At the same time I was drinking. I've had a lot of alcohol since I found out. And pills.

I've always had trouble sleeping. Always. But it's been worse. I've had maybe 4 hours of sleep since Monday. One night, I guess it was Thursday (I think... Days are all the same) I took 2 ambien, 3 tylenol pm, and a percocet. Still couldn't sleep.

Thursday night was bad. It was. That's when the cutting happened. And the pills. And a bulk of the drinking. I did something stupid (well, something else stupid). I sent my ex a picture of my bloody leg. He texted me back, "what the fuck did you do that for?!?!?!?" Then he called to tell me I was stupid. I didn't disagree.

He told his sister. Who texted me and bitched me out. And I didn't care. I don't care. It's Sunday afternoon at 1:30 and I've spent the entire weekend in my pajamas in bed. I haven't felt like talking to anyone. I haven't felt like doing anything. Except cry. The TV has been on. Can't tell you what was on the TV. His sister texted me. I texted her back. He texted me. Whatever. I updated my facebook status telling people to please leave me alone and let me deal with things my own way.

I'm broken. He wins. He broke me like I think he was trying to do all along. Fine. With everything else going on in my life at the moment, this was the last thing I needed. The last thing. And I'm done trying to be strong. I can't do it anymore.