A triste verdade é que não há nada que possas fazer para que eu deixe de te amar

It may sound pathetic but I never imagined I could love someone the way I love you. I am not talking just about the intensity of my love for you, I am talking about the fact that my love for you is unconditional, in the real sense of that word. I am talking about the fact that I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone in this world, including myself. And not in a good way.

When you love someone, you love them at their best and at their worst. But, lately, you’ve only been showing me your worst. I’ve met a side of you I didn’t know existed. You did some unimaginable things to me and you’ve hurt me to the bones. But, despite that, my love for you hasn’t faded away. I still love you with the same intensity I always did. And it is starting to frighten me.

O que é que tens de fazer para que eu deixe de te amar?

When we first met, I have to admit that I played hard to get. Deep down, I knew you were not the right guy for me, so I tried very hard to fight this enormous attraction and passion I was feeling for you. I kept telling myself that this wouldn’t grow into love and that I was better off without you.

Mas quando dei por mim, estava louco por ti. E pensei eras louco por mim as well. Before I knew it, I got used to you so much that I couldn’t imagine even one day of my life without you in it. And I knew I was doomed. And you knew it too. You sensed that I couldn’t fight my love for you anymore. You felt that I was starting to give myself completely to you, without anything holding me back. And instead of appreciating it, you started using it. You started using me.

De repente, you weren’t the man I fell for. Mudaste todos os teus velhos hábitos e tornaste-te um homem diferente.

Um homem que começou a tomar-me por garantida.

A man who didn’t treat me as a priority.

Um homem que começou a desrespeitar-me.

Um homem que começou a mentir-me.

Um homem que queria mudar-me.

Um homem que começou a usar-me de todas as formas possíveis.

Um homem que começou a trair-me.

Um homem que começou a abusar emocionalmente de mim.

E o pior é que continuei a amar-te, apesar de tudo isto.

Your behavior hurt me more times than I could ever count. You made me a different person— I’ve become nervous, anxious and I’ve lost trust in people. I never knew where I stood with you, so I never had peace in my life again. You were always playing some weird mind games with me and you ruined my self-confidence. I was never sure of you or our relationship.

Todas as pessoas próximas de mim diziam-me que you didn’t deserve me. Todos eles me disseram que te estavas a aproveitar de mim e que nunca me poderias amar como eu te amei.
And although I pretended I didn’t believe them, although I was always justifying your behavior because I was ashamed of it, deep down, I knew they were right. I knew you were not the man for me, I knew how bad you were treating me and I knew you didn’t love me enough. And most of all, I knew you would never change.

I’ve tried to leave you a hundred times. But some inexplicable, invisible force kept dragging me back to you. And no matter what you did, I went back to you. I don’t know why or how but before I knew it, I would see you standing by my side, as if nothing had happened.

For a long time, I couldn’t accept the fact that you had so much control over me. I didn’t want to face the fact that I was like your puppet without my own free will. Because I wanted para me afastar de ti, but I just couldn’t. And the worst part was that you never asked me to stay— I was fighting all these battles with myself, without you ever being actively involved.

Eu queria afastar-me de ti, mas amava-te demasiado.

I felt like a teenager who couldn’t control herself when she fell in love. It was ridiculous. I knew who you were and I knew what kind of damage you were you doing but I still stayed by your side.
Then it hit me— there was nothing you could do to make me stop loving you.

Quando se lê esta frase em voz alta, parece bastante romântica. Mas, no nosso caso, é destrutiva e devastadora. E não há nada de poético nela.