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listen to 'the internet' by gracey a small one right now because i'm really ill <3
i honestly don't think he got it; the constant negative messages from his fans, death threats in my comments and the continuous hate that happened on the daily. i always feel so fucked up yet i never say it because i never want to be seen as the attention seeking girlfriend that needs her boyfriends help to stop the trolls.
and there was no way that i was going to tell the friends i have, because they simply wouldn't understand. they had my dream life; a normal job that didn't require them to be on social media, they don't get thousands of death threats a day off of teenage girls and they probably didn't hate the internet with a burning passion.
and although i know how low i'm feeling, i never thought it'd get this bad where i would get these jitters. over the past few months, i lost my sense of humour and i hated mirrors because i saw what they saw every time i looked in one. and even when my eyes were clouded with tears as i stared at my broken reflection with mason stood behind me, he never truly saw the emotions i felt. i never used to see myself like that, it's funny how much the internet can change.
the amount of times that i put my heart on the line but pulled it back because these sharks, they bite and there's no such thing as a private life.
dating a footballer, i knew that i wouldn't have as much privacy as i was used to but i never expected it to get so out of hand. what once used to be a calm trip to get the food shopping turned into a paparazzi fest after a matter of days, all because one fan saw us on a date.
but i can't keep it up anymore. i can't keep making out that i'm good and that i'm alright when i sit and cry all night; he never knew. he never knew when i'd sneak out of bed into the bathroom so i could let out everything that i felt and it got tiring. it was tiring to keep everything from the man i trusted my life with but i know that telling me would do nothing. he'd post a message on his story and he'd believe that it would do something, when in reality it will only make it worse.
the overwhelming feelings that would build up in my chest almost got too much sometimes, and the fact that i tell myself that i can't tell a soul and that i got to hold my breath so that i didn't seem like the loudest in the room, made me physically and mentally exhausted.
however, the only time that i had actually said something about how i was feeling was one of the day where the hate was really bad. i was out in london for the afternoon and mason was back at home but going out in fifteen minutes so i didn't want to pile my trouble on him but i didn't know what else to do.
"sorry, i've got very bad energy and i know you're going out in fifteen minutes so many apologies but yeah, it's just one of them ones. um, i really just wanna throw my phone against the wall at the minute. i hate the fucking internet."
and i knew that once he got that voice message, he'd want to talk to me about what i'd said and as much as i wanted to talk, if i talked i was gonna cry. and if i cried, i'd have to tell him why and then i'd overthink the conversation all night and i'm tired, so i was quiet.
