Beautiful Terror (Burn It All Down Duet #2)

103. When You’re Drowning But You’re Still Kind

CHAPTER 103

WHEN YOU’RE DROWNING BUT YOU’RE STILL KIND

MARGAUX

T he apartment is quiet—the kind of silence that feels heavy, like a weight pressing down on my chest.

Timmy is out—where, I don’t know—and for once, I’m grateful for the solitude. I sit on the bed, my laptop open, staring at the blank document. The cursor blinks at me, waiting.

I need to say this. I need him to hear it. But talking to Timmy face-to-face never works. He deflects, twists my words, or worse—turns my concerns into ammunition for the next fight.

An email is different.

He can’t interrupt, can’t storm out or raise his voice. He has to read it, sit with it. Maybe, just maybe, it will sink in.

I take a deep breath and start typing.

Timmy,

You are an incredible person.

I mean it when I say I love you more than anyone.

I am sorry for the mean things I’ve said to you. That’s not me. And it’s not okay. That has gone both ways and this is a pattern for you, but a new thing for me.

It’s not okay from either of us.

I know you have a mood disorder. That is a big deal and not something that I can fix. You need to own the diagnosis and do all the things that will make you feel happiness. Therapy. Medication. All of the things.

Since we have been together I have seen so many positive changes you have tried to make—therapy, new medication, trying to improve communication, new job. Stopping other drugs. But it often feels like the want of a cigarette or alcohol or to ‘get back at me’ for some slight, throws all the progress out the window.

When you leave the apartment and go off unreachable, I can’t deal with that. It’s outside of what I need and expect from a relationship.

When I tell you something in confidence and then you rub it in my face and/or try to ‘destroy my life’ with it, I can’t deal with that, and it’s not in line with my expectations or needs.

I wanted this to work more than you ever know. When you aren’t acting out, you are funny and smart and creative and my favorite person to be around. I love brainstorming ideas with you and how you get excited and see so much potential in the world. You are very talented. And you are adorable. I really do love you.

But when you are acting out, it is difficult to be around you and I don’t feel safe. You are way bigger than me physically and have hurt me badly before, which you have acknowledged. And when you don’t follow through consistently and stand up and be the person I know you so want to be, it is a huge letdown that creates so much stress and pressure. It feels like I have an enemy in my own home.

I have been through a lot in my life—and I know you have too—and it’s exceptionally important for me to have stability, and surround myself with people who are kind and motivated and want the best for me and themselves. That’s how things should be. Partners are meant to support and uplift each other.

I feel like you become mean and aggressive and toxic and suspicious, and it’s not based on anything happening now. I know other people have hurt you and sometimes it feels like you are taking those experiences and assuming the same about me. This, combined with the above, causes me to become resentful and angry. It feels like you are taking the piss of a life that I’ve worked very hard to build with little support and was willing to share with you—if you did your part.

I want to set goals and work toward them. Not start to do well, and then have things be sabotaged and my boundaries disrespected. You actually broke my laptop the other night, costing me $1450 to replace it because of the way it was damaged. It feels like you are taking you—and now me—further away from achieving our goals.

From what you have told me, as well as my own observations, you seem to be quite fixated on ‘revenge’ and the idea of ‘ruining’ or ‘destroying’ people’s lives. I can’t be around that.

Life is way too short to be having domestic episodes over television shows and movies and music. And people should be able to discuss feelings in a rational, calm way before running off or escalating to police calls. Again, I am sorry for the mean things I have said to you.

This relationship is making me into a person I don’t want to be.. and that really sucks bc I wanted it to work so very badly—because I truly do love you.

Margaux xoxo

I reread the email, my finger hovering over the send button. It’s raw, honest, and more vulnerable than I’m comfortable with.

But he needs to hear this.

I need him to hear this.

I click send and close my laptop.

The silence in the apartment feels louder now, oppressive. The email is out of my hands, but the weight of the words remains. I wonder if he’ll read it. If it will register. If he’ll even care.

Deep down, I’m not sure it will make a difference.

But I have to try.

I glance toward the window. The ocean glimmers in the moonlight, calm and steady. I wish I could borrow some of that calm, let it settle over me.

Instead, I feel like a storm, restless and unresolved.

This relationship is a tempest, and I’m drowning in it.