In the Dead of Night, My Boyfriend Just Out Of Nowhere Decided to Cause Chaos, Leaving Me Humiliated and Terrified to the point of…

I never imagined the man I loved could be so selfish and aggressive.

Long and I have been together for five months, living together as a couple. In the first month, our relationship was a dream—filled with affection and joy. But as time went on, cracks began to form, fueled by small disagreements and daily life challenges.

At first, I chalked it up to the growing pains of any new relationship, but Long’s behavior started to change. He became short-tempered and critical, lashing out over the smallest things.

One evening, I accidentally spilled some water on the floor and didn’t notice it in time to clean up. Long walked through, slipped, and fell. That entire evening, as we sat for dinner, he berated me for being clumsy and incapable. His words cut deep, and I couldn’t hold back my tears. Only when I left the table, sobbing, did he stop.

Another time, we had friends over for dinner. When the alcohol ran out, Long demanded I buy more. I suggested we had enough since everyone needed to work the next day. That’s when he lost his temper. In front of everyone, he humiliated me with cruel words and even threw a bowl of fish sauce at me. The embarrassment and hurt were overwhelming, and it took us two weeks to reconcile.

For the past few days, a neighbor in our apartment complex has been dealing with the challenges of a newborn baby. The baby cries at night, as newborns often do, but no one in the building complained. Everyone seemed to understand—except Long.

Every time the baby cried, he would groan loudly, bang on the walls, or pace around the room, venting his frustration.

Last night, things escalated.

I was fast asleep when the sound of our door slamming startled me awake. I sat up in fear as Long stormed out of our apartment and pounded furiously on the neighbor’s door. His shouting echoed through the hallway as he demanded they “keep the baby quiet.”

The young mother, clearly frightened, didn’t open the door. Instead, she cracked open a window and apologized, explaining that newborns cry, and she was doing her best.

I rushed out to pull Long back to our apartment, terrified of what might happen next. As I pleaded with him to calm down, I reminded him that all babies cry and that one day, we might have children too.

His response chilled me to the core.

“I don’t like kids,” he said, staring at me with cold eyes. “I don’t want any. Ever. Living like this is better for me.”

I couldn’t sleep after that. My mind raced, replaying his outburst and reflecting on the past five months.

Long’s behavior hadn’t just been a one-off; it was part of a pattern. He was aggressive, selfish, and dismissive of other people’s feelings—including mine.

He never considered how his words or actions affected me. Everything was about his comfort, his frustrations, his preferences.

I’m at a crossroads.

I love Long, or at least the version of him I thought I knew. But the man I see now is someone who thrives on control and has little empathy for others.

Is it even possible to change someone like this? If so, how do I approach the conversation without escalating things further?

Or is it time to walk away before this relationship takes a deeper toll on my well-being?

I need advice. What would you do if you were in my position?