I was transparent, honest, supportive, encouraging, loving, sexy and believed him every time he promised to change.
Why should I be sad and lonely? Why do I have to feel the stupid sting of how it ended?
He lied to me. He maintained that lie for weeks because of his shame. He stole from his job and was caught on camera and they fired him when he could of gone to prison for what he stole.
He always told me I was his favorite person, but I was the one left out. He would help and make plans with everyone else, but when it came to me, even if he promised his help, he wouldn't show up. Wouldn't even tell me he couldn't make it. He never asked me on dates, never did anything sweet and casually blew it all off as a mistake.
The arguments were monumentally distressing. It was extreme. I wondered if he was an actual psychopath. He would twist my words, assign me feelings I didn't have, tell me I told him the opposite of what I just said. I couldn't get him to hear me. It made me feel crazy. Then after hours of trying to get the truth out he would cave and tell me it was his fault. He'd cry and bring something up unrelated to us to blame for his behavior.
He refused to talk about the future together.
Everything had to suit his mood, which shifted so frequently I was always confused. Always wrong. Always accused of being needy when I can't remember the last time he did anything to help me, or be supportive or outwardly sweet.
Right now he's probably fine. Coddling himself in inactivity and inability to be responsible for himself. Excusing himself for his behavior. Excusing himself for ripping my heart out and then not caring what happens to me after all the love he swore he had.
Our sex life was the only thing that that halfway brought us together. We had chemistry and love but most of the time he just went soft. He couldn't cum. I tried so hard to be sexy. To give to him and spoil him and make him feel like a man. I would spend so long trying to get him to finish with me but he just couldn't. And it hurts my feelings. He swore he was attracted to me, but it really didn't seem like it, and I started feeling bad about myself, my body, my femininity.
He made me feel like I wasn't worth anything. Yet if I told him how I felt, it was always an argument. Even if I walked on eggshells to show him it wasn't about him, he still got defensive and his tone would change. He'd give me the silent treatment sometimes and I think that was the most hurtful thing he did. It killed me inside.
I'm very relieved in ways that it's finally over, but today it hurts. I can't believe what I sacrificed to be treated so poorly. I believed in him when he never believed in himself and never made any effort to improve.
I know, truly, it's no real loss for me. I think it's some deeply pathetic part of me that doesn't understand why he wasn't the person he promised me. Why he didn't love me the way he said he could. Why I wasn't worth it.
In the end, it felt exactly like I knew it was. Not the version of us I believed was possible and strived for. It was the true version of us, the one where he didn't want to put the effort into together. He evaded accountability by lying to my face. And that's all I was, a face, a body, a pussy, that he didn't even value enough to tell the truth if it meant facing himself. I understand that's his issue, not mine. But I did love him. I still do. But I know he was never mine and he never will be.
He lied to me. He maintained that lie for weeks because of his shame. He stole from his job and was caught on camera and they fired him when he could of gone to prison for what he stole.
He always told me I was his favorite person, but I was the one left out. He would help and make plans with everyone else, but when it came to me, even if he promised his help, he wouldn't show up. Wouldn't even tell me he couldn't make it. He never asked me on dates, never did anything sweet and casually blew it all off as a mistake.
The arguments were monumentally distressing. It was extreme. I wondered if he was an actual psychopath. He would twist my words, assign me feelings I didn't have, tell me I told him the opposite of what I just said. I couldn't get him to hear me. It made me feel crazy. Then after hours of trying to get the truth out he would cave and tell me it was his fault. He'd cry and bring something up unrelated to us to blame for his behavior.
He refused to talk about the future together.
Everything had to suit his mood, which shifted so frequently I was always confused. Always wrong. Always accused of being needy when I can't remember the last time he did anything to help me, or be supportive or outwardly sweet.
Right now he's probably fine. Coddling himself in inactivity and inability to be responsible for himself. Excusing himself for his behavior. Excusing himself for ripping my heart out and then not caring what happens to me after all the love he swore he had.
Our sex life was the only thing that that halfway brought us together. We had chemistry and love but most of the time he just went soft. He couldn't cum. I tried so hard to be sexy. To give to him and spoil him and make him feel like a man. I would spend so long trying to get him to finish with me but he just couldn't. And it hurts my feelings. He swore he was attracted to me, but it really didn't seem like it, and I started feeling bad about myself, my body, my femininity.
He made me feel like I wasn't worth anything. Yet if I told him how I felt, it was always an argument. Even if I walked on eggshells to show him it wasn't about him, he still got defensive and his tone would change. He'd give me the silent treatment sometimes and I think that was the most hurtful thing he did. It killed me inside.
I'm very relieved in ways that it's finally over, but today it hurts. I can't believe what I sacrificed to be treated so poorly. I believed in him when he never believed in himself and never made any effort to improve.
I know, truly, it's no real loss for me. I think it's some deeply pathetic part of me that doesn't understand why he wasn't the person he promised me. Why he didn't love me the way he said he could. Why I wasn't worth it.
In the end, it felt exactly like I knew it was. Not the version of us I believed was possible and strived for. It was the true version of us, the one where he didn't want to put the effort into together. He evaded accountability by lying to my face. And that's all I was, a face, a body, a pussy, that he didn't even value enough to tell the truth if it meant facing himself. I understand that's his issue, not mine. But I did love him. I still do. But I know he was never mine and he never will be.
41-45, F
