I led my boyfriend to committing suicide after not taking his coming out serious (23 F)

I honestly don’t even know why I’m writing this. Maybe it’s guilt. Maybe it’s just to get it off my chest. Either way, I can’t stop thinking about what I did.

My boyfriend (24M) and I had been together for about three years. To be honest, things had been fine, but I wouldn’t say I was head-over-heels in love with him or anything. He was a good guy—sweet, thoughtful—but I think I just took him for granted.

About six months ago, he sat me down and told me he was bisexual. At first, I thought he was joking, so I laughed. When I realized he was serious, my reaction was… not great. I made a snarky comment about how I “should’ve known” because he was “too pretty to be straight.” Then I said something like, “Well, as long as you don’t start hitting on dudes while we’re together, I guess it’s fine.”

I didn’t think much of it at the time. I mean, I didn’t leave him or anything, so I thought I was being supportive in my own way. But he just kind of nodded and went quiet. Over the next few weeks, I noticed he was acting different—more distant, quieter. Instead of asking him what was wrong, I just rolled my eyes and called him “dramatic.”

One time, he tried to bring it up again, saying he felt like I didn’t understand what he was going through. I cut him off and said, “Oh my God, are you seriously making this a thing? You’re bi. Big deal. It’s not like you’re coming out as gay and leaving me, so why does it even matter?” He didn’t say anything after that.

Fast forward to three weeks ago. He killed himself. I came home and found him. There was a note, and in it, he said he felt like no one in his life truly understood him—not his family, not me. He wrote that he felt like he couldn’t talk to me because I didn’t take him seriously, and that he felt trapped in his own head.

At first, I was in shock. Then the guilt hit me like a truck. I keep replaying every conversation we had, every time I dismissed him or made a joke at his expense. I can’t believe how cruel I was. I didn’t mean to hurt him—I thought I was being funny, or that it wasn’t a big deal. But it clearly was.

Now I’m stuck with this crushing guilt, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I feel like I don’t even deserve to grieve him because I was such a terrible girlfriend. Therapy helps a little, but I still don’t know how to live with myself after this.

Edit: I’m seeing a lot of people calling my posts slop and bait due to my writing and lack of comments and responses, to start of I want to say thank you for those who sent kind words my way and to those who responded negatively I want you to know I read you comments, I never asked to be “coddled I just needed to get this off my chest. To answer for the lack of comments and responses Is due to breakdowns and panic attacks I’ve had over the last day. I posted my story on 4chan as well and the homophobia and disrespect I received sent me spiraling.