This whole thing is hell.

I don’t say that lightly. It feels like no matter what we do, what we say, or what we aren’t doing is a problem with someone. And it’s especially hard being ridiculed by people who don’t even know you. Strangers. People who think they know everything, but only know what they believe to be true.

When we started dating 4 years ago, the internet was in shambles. They were still stuck on my relationship from years prior, but we knew that. They never let me live it down, and that’s why I went silent on all social media. But last year, when we got married, everything only got worse.

I’ve never loved someone like I love you. That’s something the internet can’t spin into what they want. It’s my truth. You are everything to me, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. I’ve never wanted anything more than for you to be my wife, but the world had their opinions on it.

Can I really say opinions when it’s spiraled into so much more? And can I really clump us together in this situation when it’s really only happening to you?

The outlandish speculations have never been a new thing to us. People digging up old video clips or posts from before we were ever together to paint you as some kind of villain. Your father is a huge businessman in the music industry, and with me being a singer, our paths were bound to cross. Fleeting moments, friendly smiles in passing and straight up not even acknowledging one another’s presence has been deemed stalking in their eyes.

Yes, stalking. They’ve chosen the narrative that since we were both just kids, you’ve been plotting our relationship. Scheming for years in hopes that one day you could lock me down. That’s what they say. And they have evidence to back their claims.

I can tell it’s all getting to you. I mean, how could it not? They’re waiting for you top rove them right (because they won’t accept they’re wrong), or just end the “act” all together. It’s too much.

I can see it right now. As we sit on the couch in our home, what was meant to be a movie night together has turned into you doom-scrolling through your phone. No doubt sifting through all the new bullshit they’ve come up with. The way your lip is pulled between your teeth nervously, I don’t have to guess.

You aren’t even laying with me, not really. You’re pressed up against the edge of the couch with your knees blocking any entrance to get closer.

The distance isn’t a new thing. You started doing it not even a month after we got married, when shit really hit the fan.

You started waking up before me to have your coffee alone. Going to the grocery store without me. Heading to bed earlier and locking me out of the bathroom. Allowing me to do whatever I want or need without that adorable, needy pout you’d usually get when you’d beg me to stay home with you. All of it’s changing. You’re pulling away.

And I know it’s because of what’s going on online.

“Babe…?” I try to gain your attention, speaking over the quiet hum of the movie neither of us is paying attention to. But you don’t look up from your screen. “Baby,” I try again. Still nothing.

It aggravates me slightly. To know you’re so deep into the rabbit hole, so disconnected from what’s real, that you can’t even acknowledge me anymore. I can’t lie and say that the anger and slight resentment hasn’t been building for a while. I don’t understand how you can let his affect our relationship? Why you’re letting it?

So, instead of trying to talk to you again, I simply just stand from the couch. But I should’ve known better than to think you’d speak up, maybe even pout at my fleeting presence. You don’t even notice I’ve left the couch and made my way to the kitchen.

Since I only got up to prove a point, I just grab a water and make my way back. But something inside of me snaps, especially when I see that you’re reading through the articles about you. I grab your phone out of your hands from behind and toss it across the room.

“Would you get off your phone and just fucking talk to me, dammit?!”