Is there someone that you had to kick our of your life that you miss?
If you do, tell me your story ;)
26-30, M
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Stranger · 46-50, M
Yup. It was today, 5 years ago, after living together for two years that the story between Darla and me ended. I loved that woman to death, I even had the opportunity to offer mine in exchange for hers. I didn't know if I would be able to give it up for someone else. But when the moment came I didn't have to reason about it, I would cease to be, and she would. Keep on stirring up mayhem desire and passion on every life she touched, like. She did before I met her; as she was supposed to keep on doing, blissfully unaware that her smile and stare could turn the most pragmatic conservative into a thrill seeking, morally ambiguous hedonist just to keep up pace with her.
She suffered from BPD, borderline personality disorder. And it didn't fail to stir the deepest most hateful jealousy I ever felt, nor the most kindling loving blissful admiration. She had been committed to a mental institution for about a year in her teens, when I met her she was picking up the pieces of what was left of her life, and i promised her that she would never set foot on any place remotely similar.
She moved in. We had the most intense and delightful 2 years together and left nothing to imagination or chance: we were together and she wanted a girlfriend, ok., I said. Then she wanted to share her GF with me. Her GF, became. "Our GF (who am i to complain?). She wanted me to find out if I was. bisexual, well you can't say you don't like something you've never tried. Turns out I was not, but that didn't stop me from having fun while fguring t out.
. Try exotic food? check . Exotic drinks? Check. Sensory deprivation sessions followed with amphetamine rocket fueled porn-star class sex? Been therem done that. And the fact that I was 10y her senior only made it more exciting, for both of us, , It was not right and that was the rule of thumb for something that was good for us.
. And then she hit a rough spot. Around the same time the year before she had attempted suicide. I got home on time. That year I was determined to not let her fall into that abyss. Little did I know what was in store for me.
The powdered lust we used to play with every once in awhile became her daily vice. She would stay awake for 3 days and when I couldn't keep up, she'd sneak out of the house and indulge on making fantasies reality for people I despised, and then she became verbally abusive. Before I realised I was getting dragged to her nightmarish view of the world, then it became physical. I was a battered husband. And I accepted the fact only recently after therapy, because there's proof: I started taking selfies of my sorry state after her wrath was unleashed on me, for no reason at all, because I wasn't sure if it was real or if that was going on only in my head.
It was as real las the metal blade I was staring down at, that day. And staring down from the wrong side!. Holding the blade to my neck was the woman I loved, desired, and had shared dreams, passion, home and bed for two years. I could hear how my soul cracked and ripped like a rabbit being skinned before dinner. I could not love or help her if I was dead. I had to stay alive. I couldn't do anything. This was beyond me, . It was out of my hands. She needed professional help. I was too proud of my engineering degrees and studies and means and I thought "how hard can borderline disorder be? Not harder than finite element analysis, I thought!
How wrong and stupid I was. And there she stood, demanding I gave her my phone so she could find evidence of my "cheating" that was going on only in her head, with a drawn knfe pointing at my throat, her eyes ablaze in the anger that only jealousy can ignite that fast.
Soul broken, I threw my phone behind her, and as she leapt to catch it, I fled from my own house. I didn't realise I was beaten and bleeding until I got to her mother's house. I asked her for help. Darla needed help I could no longer provide. Darla's mother, didn't need convincing. She had been a victim of the same physical abuse herself, so she knew I was not making shit up. She already knew what to do. She had done it once already.
I spent that lonely night at her place. In the morning we went to the state mental facility and got a "coerced evaluation appointment" letter. With that letter we could ask a police officer to restrain and deliver her to the mental institution, the only legal way to get her there without having an arrest warrant to, as any other way deprive her her constitutional right to no not being falsely imprisoned.
The police came, and dragged her out of my house. After she was gone, it was cold, empty, gray, dull, boring. And I became a living corpse having failed my promise in the worst possible way.
I was supposed to keep her away from that place. I ended up throwing her in there.
I bear the scars that remind me it was not a nightmare, it was real. And life has been so dull and meaningless since. I started missing her as the officers dragged her away. I miss her to this day. But I had to kick her out of my life
She suffered from BPD, borderline personality disorder. And it didn't fail to stir the deepest most hateful jealousy I ever felt, nor the most kindling loving blissful admiration. She had been committed to a mental institution for about a year in her teens, when I met her she was picking up the pieces of what was left of her life, and i promised her that she would never set foot on any place remotely similar.
She moved in. We had the most intense and delightful 2 years together and left nothing to imagination or chance: we were together and she wanted a girlfriend, ok., I said. Then she wanted to share her GF with me. Her GF, became. "Our GF (who am i to complain?). She wanted me to find out if I was. bisexual, well you can't say you don't like something you've never tried. Turns out I was not, but that didn't stop me from having fun while fguring t out.
. Try exotic food? check . Exotic drinks? Check. Sensory deprivation sessions followed with amphetamine rocket fueled porn-star class sex? Been therem done that. And the fact that I was 10y her senior only made it more exciting, for both of us, , It was not right and that was the rule of thumb for something that was good for us.
. And then she hit a rough spot. Around the same time the year before she had attempted suicide. I got home on time. That year I was determined to not let her fall into that abyss. Little did I know what was in store for me.
The powdered lust we used to play with every once in awhile became her daily vice. She would stay awake for 3 days and when I couldn't keep up, she'd sneak out of the house and indulge on making fantasies reality for people I despised, and then she became verbally abusive. Before I realised I was getting dragged to her nightmarish view of the world, then it became physical. I was a battered husband. And I accepted the fact only recently after therapy, because there's proof: I started taking selfies of my sorry state after her wrath was unleashed on me, for no reason at all, because I wasn't sure if it was real or if that was going on only in my head.
It was as real las the metal blade I was staring down at, that day. And staring down from the wrong side!. Holding the blade to my neck was the woman I loved, desired, and had shared dreams, passion, home and bed for two years. I could hear how my soul cracked and ripped like a rabbit being skinned before dinner. I could not love or help her if I was dead. I had to stay alive. I couldn't do anything. This was beyond me, . It was out of my hands. She needed professional help. I was too proud of my engineering degrees and studies and means and I thought "how hard can borderline disorder be? Not harder than finite element analysis, I thought!
How wrong and stupid I was. And there she stood, demanding I gave her my phone so she could find evidence of my "cheating" that was going on only in her head, with a drawn knfe pointing at my throat, her eyes ablaze in the anger that only jealousy can ignite that fast.
Soul broken, I threw my phone behind her, and as she leapt to catch it, I fled from my own house. I didn't realise I was beaten and bleeding until I got to her mother's house. I asked her for help. Darla needed help I could no longer provide. Darla's mother, didn't need convincing. She had been a victim of the same physical abuse herself, so she knew I was not making shit up. She already knew what to do. She had done it once already.
I spent that lonely night at her place. In the morning we went to the state mental facility and got a "coerced evaluation appointment" letter. With that letter we could ask a police officer to restrain and deliver her to the mental institution, the only legal way to get her there without having an arrest warrant to, as any other way deprive her her constitutional right to no not being falsely imprisoned.
The police came, and dragged her out of my house. After she was gone, it was cold, empty, gray, dull, boring. And I became a living corpse having failed my promise in the worst possible way.
I was supposed to keep her away from that place. I ended up throwing her in there.
I bear the scars that remind me it was not a nightmare, it was real. And life has been so dull and meaningless since. I started missing her as the officers dragged her away. I miss her to this day. But I had to kick her out of my life
View 3 more replies »
Stranger · 46-50, M
@Starcrossed it's ok, thank you. I usually don't spill the beans about this but probably the date, the question any the fact that I feel safe and anonymously d here made me come to terms with the fact that she left a void,and maybe now I can start filling it in a way that not destructive having someone who listened to the story having witnessed something similar, made all the difference. If it was for me, I'd say the internet and all the infrastructure that put us here in a seemingly random fashion,have just achieved their purpose =) thx, truly you have no idea how real this is
Pineapple · 100+, F
yes, twice, two different people. the first time i missed them at first, then i grew to realise how manipulative, controlling and unhealthy they were for me. the second time - again i missed them at first... then with each passing day it was more obvious how much of a selfish, heartless, self-loving narcissist they were. both were the best decisions i made
whateverhappens · 26-30, F
NankerPhelge · 61-69, M
This message was deleted.
brownfox · 26-30, M
@SW-User As I have learned, people can´t take full honesty, since we´re sentimental beings.
This message was deleted.
Starcrossed · 41-45, F
Yes, he was seeing other people and I couldn't be okay with it. He recently reconnected after 6 months and now as of Thurs declared it was a mistake so I don't know what's up. I do love him though.
SW-User
i don't really miss them i just miss the attention they gave me
TheCoolestCat · 31-35, M
nope dont miss them at all
SailorMarz · F
Nothing really stands out
Butterflykisses24 · 51-55, F
kick yes miss no.
SW-User
Nope. None of them.
Mrsbetweenfatandfit · 26-30, F