I used to call constantly, he would have numerous missed calls from me. I'd sit at home and literally make myself ill with worry over where he was, what was he doing, was he safe, was he in danger? The times I would sit and agonise, I couldn't relax to watch TV or read or eat or sleep. I would get up every few minutes and wonder around the house, stand on the dor step and see if he was coming down the road, walk around to his haunts and see if he was there, listen at his friends front door to see if I recognised his voice. Then when he would finally come home and pass out I would check his phone to find that he had cleared his missed call reminder. When I knew he had seen my calls and not answered or thought to call me back I would be filled with anger and sadness. How could he not care? How could he be so selfish? Surely he must know I've been worried sick with not knowing and he could've made it all better just by calling me! I bet he sat in his friends laughing about how pathetic I was calling me names like he did to my face etc.
Then one day I realised, all the pain, all the sickness, all the restlessness, the sleepless nights, missing out on my life, was no ones fault. I was choosing to live that way. Through that decision to mother him, I was making myself ill. He is an adult. I am an adult. He doesn't call me every ten minutes when I go out, not because he didn't care, but because he wasn't obsessing about me the way i was with him. I had made my bf my world, and as a result I couldn't see the world anymore.
I decided to stop. Then I felt better. Then I found me again. Now he is finding himself.
Lily xxxxxxxxxx