I became the villain to protect my abuser's image

back in 2017, i had my first queer crushes (harry potter book illustration and andrew garfield in spiderman, obviously). i came out accidentally to a classmate, who came out accidentally to me. we became friends. that part was sweet.

then came R.

our friendship started when he found out i had a crush on him. we connected, eerily fast. he had bruises that never healed, glasses that kept changing, and long silences that should have warned me. he had a girlfriend, D, and i ended up being the third party in their mess.

then came the breakdowns. violent, manipulative, cruel. he’d threaten to kill us both in gory detail, then apologize. all of it happened online. i started copying him. not out of malice, just blind admiration. i mirrored everything: symptoms, cruelty, breakdowns. none of it was real for me at the time.

until it was.

i started showing actual symptoms. hallucinations, delusions, suicidal thoughts. the lie collapsed, mine first. they cast me out. he got to keep his mask.

i tried to kill myself. someone called my mom just in time. i survived. he used my healing against me too. told D i was toxic. got me isolated. eventually, they broke up. he threatened to kill himself. i said i didn’t care. maybe he did. i never found out.

i left. started calling him what he was: an abuser. a manipulator. my groomer. all of it true. but i still feel like i abandoned someone in crisis.

years later, i saw the same pattern happening between two people i cared about — V and E. i projected. hard. then i stopped and told myself the truth: this was never their story. this was mine.

i wrote all of this because i owed R. he saved my life once. so i destroyed mine to protect his name. i took the fall. played the lunatic, the liar, the cautionary tale. not to redeem him, not to forgive him. just to bury him properly. not with grace, but with silence.

i never wanted to ruin him. i just didn’t want anyone else to suffer the way i did.

they say gazing upon the gods brings ruin. but no one asks what it costs to kill one.

i do. i lived it.

and i’ll tell you this:

even the gods have their limits.