Archive of Our Own

You're sick of this.

You're sick of him.

You're sick of his stupid horns and the way he keeps waving them around at you like he thinks it'll get your attention—it does—and make you think he's cute—it just makes you think he's an idiot.

And he is. He's a complete idiot, he's a jackass, he constantly tries to show you up and correct you like it'll make you like him better for it, he's demanding and he's clingy and somehow he still makes it seem like he doesn't give a shit about you.

You're sick of the passive-aggressive remarks about how skinny you are—you know, asshole, you know and it's not going to change and this is just the way you are and you hate it as much as he does and can't he just let it go? And the "you know you should really calm down" and "woah there bucko I don't know what set that one off" and "man, wake up, live a little, you're bringing me down just looking at you" and…

You're sick of everything he makes you feel.

You thought he was going to be fantastic. He was attractive, he was sympathetic, he was patient with you, he looked at you and didn't laugh at you, didn't make fun of you, actually took you seriously.

But he started doing this thing, where he can't stand it when you're sad and can't stand it when you're happy, or angry, or annoyed, or excited, or anything, and you don't know what he wants you to be anymore because it seems like he's never pleased.

And now he doesn't look at you like you mean something, he looks at you like you're a burden.

He sighs out of his nose and draws his mouth into a line and looks away, and you know you've fucked up again.

You could never get anything right.

This wasn't any different.

He still sleeps with you, and those nights you think everything will be fine.

But he gives you that look in the morning and you feel sick.

You finally broke down in front of him and told him everything he made you feel—tried, anyway, through all the tears and the screaming—and he left you.

It took you two months to realize it wasn't your fault.