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Dear Diary,

I fucking knew he was cheating on me. I fucking knew it and I still can’t fucking believe it, I am so goddamn upset. My boyfriend of four years, FOUR FUCKING YEARS, is cheating on me. I can’t fucking begin to tell you how upset I am. Let me start by giving you some background. My boyfriend and I first met four years ago at the mall. I was working at a Pretzel stand at the time, and when he walked past me I knew it was love at first sight. He was the one for me. I couldn’t believe how much I loved him. He was tall, he had straight black hair, and when I learned his name I nearly fainted. Aaron. The name I had always dreamed of as a child, and had always wanted to be with. It sounds stupid, being so attracted to a name, but it was something I’d always felt. Anyway, pretty soon we had moved in together. His house was beautiful and charming. It was only one bedroom one bath, but with a big attic and basement and a beautiful yard out front. It was the perfect place for us to start our family. We’d eat dinner together, he’d always wash the dishes and take out the trash, and at night I could just stare at his smile for hours, happy to have found someone as perfect as him. It was all going amazingly as the years went on; he got a better job, a new car, he was really turning into the perfect husband I had always imagined. That’s why you can understand how fucking DEVASTATED I was when I saw him with some whore.

I was out getting groceries one day, and I thought I saw my Aaron at this cute little coffee place we love going to. It was like our town’s Starbucks. He loved to go there to get work done or get a morning coffee, and I loved being with him when he did. I hid behind a streetlamp outside and stared through the glass, wondering why he was at the coffee shop instead of work. It was 12:45, so at first I convinced myself he was just taking a quick break from the Office and decided to get some coffee. Something tugged at me though, knowing it wasn’t true, so I waited and watched. Sure enough, at 1:00, this young, brunette girl in her twenties walked in. I was never the jealous type, but fuck me if this girl didn’t have everything I was jealous of. She had thee nicest tits I’ve ever seen. They were firm and big, unlike my floppy sandbags. She had perfect teeth, her smile was amazing, and she walked with an elegance that made me furious. Her hair barely grazed her shoulders. As she sat down at his table and they started talking, I could feel what I had built crumbling apart. Our life together, our future, ruined by some fucking slut who probably just wanted him for his money. Or maybe she just wanted something warm to fuck and play with. Either way, she didn’t know that he was mine, she didn’t know I was not someone to fuck with, so I decided I was going to teach her.

At first it was little things. I followed her home one day to see where she lived, and wouldn’t you fucking guess it, it was barely a mile away from me and Aaron. I went by one morning and knocked over all her potted plans. Then, when she was at work, I cut all of her power cables in half. Finally, I slashed all of her tires, and spray painted “whore” across her front window in bright red paint. I waited outside the next morning for her to leave, and when she saw what I’d done she burst into tears. I couldn’t be happier, fuck this home wrecker and her attempts to seduce my man. I’m assuming she called into work, because she spent the rest of the morning wiping the paint off her windows. I left satisfied that this tramp would never talk to my Aaron again.

However, wouldn’t you fucking know it, that same night Aaron left the house around six. I didn’t bother asking where he was going, I just watched him leave. As soon as he was gone, I got in my car and followed him to this amazing Italian place that we’d been to a few times. Guess who was there but that fucking slut. She came in, and then she did something I could never forgive her for. She touched my man. She fucking hugged him, flinging those stupid perfect tits onto him and resting her head on his shoulder. I could barely stop myself from charging into the restaurant and beating her to fucking death. I watched them get dinner. Aaron could tell she was upset, and finally she broke down and told him about the vandalism. She couldn’t understand why someone had done it. She said she didn’t have any enemies and had never ruined a relationship. Fucking Aaron just sat there, and didn’t say a peep. He didn’t mention he was cheating, he didn’t mention that we’d been together for four fucking years, nothing. He just fucking sat there. What happened next is honestly his fault.

This bitch was obviously not understanding that she and Aaron shouldn’t be together. So I was going to make her. That night, after he dropped her off, I waited until all the lights went off in her house. I walked up to the front step, and found a spare key under the mat. Under the fucking mat. This bitch was asking for this. I walked inside and tried to get my bearings. It was pitch black except for some filtered light from the streetlights outside. I made out a hallway in the dark and followed it down to an open door.

There, sitting in bed as fucking stupidly beautiful as she’d ever been, was this girl. This demon. This succubus whore. She had single handedly caused me more pain than anyone else in my life. I couldn’t believe what she was doing to me, my Aaron, our future children, our lives. All that fury bottled up inside me immediately came out. In one quick motion, I lept on to the bed and had my hands around her fucking throat. She woke up, gasping, trying to hit me, but it was too late. As I watched the life drain from her eyes, relief flooded through me. I had fixed this problem. She would never threaten my relationship again. I quietly left, locked the door behind me, put the key back, and headed home.

The next day, I could tell something was bothering Aaron. He didn’t go to work, and had been answering phone calls all day. I had purposely been trying to keep my distance, so I couldn’t really tell what he was saying or who he was talking to. Around ten a.m., two police officers came into the house and asked him a bunch of questions. Questions he had the fucking audacity to answer right in front of me, like how did he know this “Alison Bacman” or how if they had any “personal history.” I was almost in tears by the time they left, hearing my Aaron admit all of these things right in front of me. We have a lot to work through, but I know we're a strong enough couple to make it work.

Thanks for listening, Diary. I’m so glad you could be there for me when Aaron couldn’t. I’ll let you know how this all plays out, and hopefully me and Aaron can be back on track to having a perfect life in no time.
-Courtney

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Dear Journal,

I am only writing this because I am in such a state of shock. After my girlfriend Alison was found dead, the police came to my house and questioned me. I honestly told them I had nothing to do with it. As I was their only lead suspect, they came back two days later and requested to search my house. I had nothing to hide, so I let them. What they found has permanently changed my life.

Apparently, for at least three years, there has been a forty-five year old man living in my attic. He convinced himself we were in love. He would watch me, spy on me, fantasize about me, and was obsessed with me. We only know this through a series of Diaries that the police have just started going through.

For the first time today, I saw the man. He had crooked teeth, hair that looked like grey straw, and had to be at least three hundred pounds. He was massive, at least four inches taller than me. Looking at him left me physically terrified. The most horrifying moment of meeting him wasn’t his appearance though. It was his face when I entered the room. A smile broke across his face, and he begged me to explain to the police that we were in love, and that he had only murdered Alison to protect me. The look in his eye when he stared at me made me physically sick. I could see this man honestly believed we were in love. I left the courtroom and threw up.

The police have informed me they expect me to stand as a witness in his upcoming trial. I don’t know if I can. The past five weeks have changed my life permanently. Tomorrow, I will put my house on the market and look to moving. I need to start somewhere new if I want to move past this.

I am still in shock and haven’t been able to tell my family or friends what I’m going through. I don’t think I ever will.


I don’t know if I can live with this.

-Aaron


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By reddit user Charles3129 via: reddit.com/r/nosleep

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