Let’s put ourselves in Molly shoes for a minute.There’s this guy that you like, though y

Let’s put ourselves in Molly shoes for a minute.There’s this guy that you like, though you know he’s kind of an asshole and he makes you feel small - like a mouse. You spend years trying to earn his attention - you dress up, do him favors that would get you in trouble, cancel plans with your bf, and do anything he asks. All you get in return are rejections, compliments that come with strings, and attention only when he needs something. He finds out you have feelings for him while he’s in the middle of publicly humiliating you. He always says such horrible things. You tell him so to his face, but it doesn’t change how you feel. You help him fake his death when he asks, because at the end of the day, you want to be there when he needs you. He disappears. You date while he’s gone, but your feelings for him remain untouched. You even get engaged to a man that looks and dresses similar to him, but it’s not the same.When he comes home, he asks you to accompany him on a case. You get your hopes up that he’s finally come around, even though you have a fiance now. The case is fun, but he forgets your name - after all you’ve done for him. It hurts a little. He reassures you that you’re not a replacement for his usual partner, but you still take notes and do everything said partner would do because you feel like it’s what he wants. At the end, he congratulates you on your engagement and thanks you for your help. And even though he said you weren’t just a replacement, he never asks you to hang out again after he’s made up with his other friend. You tell him about how much sex you’re having with your fiance, just to see his reaction. He doesn’t care. You didn’t really think he would. He just uncomfortably moves the conversation on to what he really wanted - a favor. As always. You attend his best friend’s wedding and stare daggers at the pretty bridesmaid on his arm. Why does she get his attention so easily when you’ve been working for it for years? He throws her the boutonnière without even a second glance at you, and you feel a little stab of hurt. Because you can’t help how strongly you still feel for him. And you hate yourself for it. So much, that when you see him leave the wedding clearly upset, you continue dancing instead of making sure he’s okay like you once would have. You find out that he’s relapsed to drugs. You’re angry. And suddenly, you don’t care anymore about always putting on your best face to make him like you. You hit him. He throws your failed engagement in your face (which you knew was doomed to fail the moment he returned from the dead) and you resent him for it.He comes to your flat in the middle of the night. He needs a place to stay, but insists that he needs your whole bedroom to himself. He needs the space - from you. Like always, whatever he needs, you give it to him. When he goes missing, you are forced to admit you let him do this. It’s so humiliating you hardly want to admit it. He relapses again months later, and guess who is called up to handle  cleaning up his mess? You. Always you. It’s you who they call when they need to pull strings or need a last minute favor no one else will do. That’s all you’re good for, apparently. You’re having a bad day. Alone. The phone rings, and it’s him. You’re done with him. You’ve had enough of his shit. You ignore it. It rings again. You answer.He tells you to say “I love you.” You consider telling him to fuck off. You’re not an experiment. He insists, and you admit that you can’t say it because it’s always been true. And boy, do you hate how true it is, how much pain it’s caused you. He tells you to say it anyway - boy, do you hate that. But you insist on him saying it first. It takes him two tries to get it right, and then you say it back. It’s like a knife to your heart. He comes to your flat later and tells you that the “phone call” you had with him was actually him being threatened by his crazy sister who told him that unless you said “I love you” to him, you’d get blown up. “You bastard,” you say when he asks for your forgiveness. You’re pissed off at the fact that it was still all a lie. An experiment, just like you thought in the beginning. But fuck it, you think. You’ll forgive him. Deep down you always knew you would. Because he can do anything, literally anything to you, and you’ll allow it. He can play with your heart, use you, take your room, lie to you, and you’ll let him. But you’ll always pick yourself up and put a smile on your face the next time he asks for your help. Because that’s what you do, and it’s what you’ll always do. So might as well accept it, because that’s all he ever needs you for. SO LADIES: If he doesn’t manipulate you, only remember you exist when he needs something, forget your name when you’re hanging out, use you because he knows you’ll never say no to him, and only say “i love you” for the sake of getting a response …. what’s even the point???If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: Molly Hooper deserved better. -- source link
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