  Justin cheated on me both physically and emotionally. I woke up nights, and he’d be at my computer talking to some strange girl. He’d tell them he loved them. Then he’d come to bed and tell me the same thing. It made me feel cheap, or at least easily replaceable.
A dime a dozen. I let it go on though. I tricked myself into believing that he was all I deserved. All I’d ever get. And I loved him. So I stayed. When Justin and I broke up, we decided to still live together. We still slept together, only now it was ok for him to sleep with other girls. I didn’t date, I didn’t want to. One night I fell asleep waiting for Justin to come home. When I woke up the lights were on downstairs, and I could hear talking in the front room.
There was a girl’s voice. He had picked up some girl in the Albertson’s parking lot. When I walked downstairs, she was on top of him. I was so angry that I called a friend and had him pick me up. That night he slept with that strange girl in our bed. I lived with my friend Joe for about a week, then Justin and I made up and I moved back. What I mean by made up is that he told me he loved me.
And I desperately wanted to be loved, so I went back to him. I guess that’s a big part of my problem. I’ve never felt really loved. I guess by men anyway. I hate to blame it on my dad, that’s so cliché, but it might be true. Ever since I was 8 years old, I’ve wondered why I wasn’t good enough. Maybe my relationships are an extension of that. I attract men who will treat me badly, and those who won’t, I push away by believing that they will. Maybe that’s the problem with my guy. I don’t think he’d purposefully hurt me. But my distrust makes everything he does suspect. And there’s only so much of that one can take before they run out and cheat. It’s like, how far can you push someone before they finally walk away. That’s my goal in relationships I think. Subconsciously anyway. 
