So, one year ago, I was preparing to take my boyfriend home for Thanksgiving to meet the rest of my family. He'd already met my parents (who were sure he was THE one), but now he was going to meet my siblings and their families. To be completely honest, I was totally nervous. It was a 10 hour drive to my sister's, and we wouldn't have a break from each other for almost a week...that's a lot of time alone with me.
I was sure that by the end of it, he'd be running for the hills, and despite one fight, it went pretty well Now, one year later, I'm preparing to spend the holiday alone again. I feel like failure, but more than that, I feel alone. I believed it was real, but as it turns out, when things got tough, he completely cut me off.
Of course, the relationship was far from perfect, but I loved him and I was in it for the long haul. Even after he hit me. I did everything I could to keep the relationship going. I was the one who initiated a conversation to try to sort out why he hit me and how we could move forward from there. I was the one who saw my own need for counseling because I knew that, even in the most minute way, I contributed to the ongoing problem that led up to the slap. I was the one who kept the conversation going, trying to rebuild something I thought was worth fighting for. I was the one who spent time trying to figure out what I wanted and tried to communicate that to him. When that led him to stop talking to me, I was the one who reached out to apologize for asking for something I wasn't willing to do too.
He accepted my apology, of course, and even took some responsibility for how things went wrong, though I'm pretty sure he still saw it as all my fault. He did decide that he wanted to start over, and I went along, believing that he really did want a fresh start, that he had really changed, but as soon as I questioned his feelings, he was out. Done. Finished. I think it was in that moment of reading his text (yep, he broke up with me via text) that I realized he never really loved me. I think he wanted to, to have someone to take care of him, to be with him so he wouldn't be alone, but as soon as he was unhappy, that was it.
Honestly, maybe I should have sensed it. I mean, I've always been the one to cut people out when they hurt me, but now I was one the other side of it, and it sucked. All the unknowns, they why's. But the worst thing was knowing that he was going to blame me for everything. When it comes right down to it, everything, including the slap will be my fault.
When he tells his friends, people I've spent time with and genuinely liked, about the break up, I'll play the part of the bad guy. He'll find a way to excuse slapping me, and I'm pretty sure that my mental health will be front and center in his story (yep, I suffer from depression, social anxiety, and I'm pretty sure some form of early onset dementia :P). That really shouldn't surprise me, though, because I spent the last 8 months listening to him tell stories about his mom, cousin, and friends, and in every story, he was the victim. They all had way more problems than he does and he was really only involved with any of them because he felt obligated to be. That's when I realized, that that's exactly what he was doing with me. He put up with me because he wanted to be married, and he didn't care to who as long as he had someone to take care of him.
He saw me as nothing more than an ends to a means, and yet I was hopelessly in love with him. I've tried so hard to just move on, accept defeat, but I can only think about how unlovable I am. I mean, if I can't make a relationship work with a blind guy, how will any other guy love me.
I desperately want to reach out to him, but I know that it would only serve to feed my selfish desire for closure. I want to yell, scream, rage at him, but that would only give him more ammunition against me. Maybe the worst part is that his friends will accept blindly what he tells them. He'll make me sound so terrible that they'll just coddle him and tell him how lucky he is to have gotten out when he did. I have to live with that, every day and it hurts. Mostly because I know that none of these people are really doing him any good, because they're allowing him to continue to live in a world where he is the only victim and never does anything wrong. That's a world I lived in far too long and it was a lonely, bitter place.
It took Ron White to finally make me see the error of my ways. He was telling a story about doing a show at Ft.Polk. He said that when he mentioned the number of men stationed there (about 40, 000), a woman yelled out, "everyone of them's a bad f&^$" His response hit me hard. He said, "You know I would think after about 39, 000 times, you'd start to go, 'Maybe it's me. Maybe I need to read a book.'" As soon as I heard that, I realized, I was the common denominator in every relationship that had gone sour, and it honestly changed how I relate to people (well, that along with The Peacemaker book by Ken Sande). I try to see my fault, identify it, apologize and move forward.
I want to believe that eventually, one day he'll see himself as more than a victim, but it seems obvious that no one is going to point that out to him. I'm pretty sure that so many people tried to point that out to me, but it only became true for me when I finally saw it for myself. I hope he gets there, but I'm pretty sure that just my own selfish desire for vindication.
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
Sunday, July 31, 2016
To the Boy who Broke My Heart...
It's been three weeks since I put the ball in your court, and from your lack of communication, I'm assuming you've decided that this relationship isn't worth fighting for, that I wasn't worth fighting for, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry you didn't love me enough to see past my anxiety, my fears and my depression and fight. I can't say I'm surprised, but I am disappointed. I believe that when you truly love someone, you stay and fight no matter what, and I would have rather fought with you everyday to work through everything, even if it took the rest of our lives rather than lose you.
I knew that my anxiety and depression was getting worse with all the chaos at school, and I was trying to wait until the end of the school year, for things to slow down before I went to the doctor. I thought I was strong enough to handle everything on my own and I was trying to hide it all from you. Because I wanted you to love me, and I didn't think you would once you saw how broken I really was. Maybe I thought that you could save me. I just didn't want you to see me the way you saw Amy--as a burden.
That Friday we went to The Funny Bone, Karleen had just gotten angry with mfe and told me how disappointed she was with me, with my performace as a teacher. She actually got angry enough to walk away from me, so I apologized for misunderstanding what she wanted and we talked it out. That afternoon, my ECI consultant, Sarah, came for our last meeting. I told her about meeting with Karleen, hoping to get it off my chest. I told her I didn't want you to know because I didn't want to ruin our plans for your birthday, but the truth is, I felt like a failure and I didn't want you to see me that way. I wanted to be good enough for you, and I didn't think you would stay with me if you believed I was a failure.
I tried so hard to keep everything from you, pretending to be okay, maybe that's why my headache was so bad. I cried in the bathroom of the hotel that night, reliving in slow motion her words, "I'm disappointed in you". I couldn't get those words out of my head, and I never wanted to hear them from you. I wanted to be everything you wanted me to be, and I did everything I could to make you happy, hoping you wouldn't leave me once I told you about my meeting with Karleen.
I never really got that chance though because out of nowhere, suddenly we were in a fight and I had no idea where I had gone wrong. I had done everything you ever asked of me. I got tickets to The Funny Bone. I drove to Des Moines, which scared the bejesus out of me. I baked you a cake, and I hate to bake. I was the doting, supportive girlfriend at church and then boom, you were done. There's this song by John Mayer called, St. Patrick's Day. It's about a relationship where the two are only together until St. Patrick's Day because "no one wants to be alone at Christmas time, come January, we're frozen inside, making new resolutions a hundred times, February won't you be my Valentine, and we'll both be safe til St. Patrick's Day". These two were only together to get through the holidays, and I began to believe that you were only with me to get through to your birthday. I felt like a fool, like I'd been duped.
I know you felt like you couldn't be the initiator of contact after what happened and Darin took you back to Creston, and I have to admit I still wanted all of this to work out. If only I could help you understand how you hurt me. Instead, it became my fault, my problem. If only I could get better, then we'd be able to put all this behind us and move forward. The problem is, I don;t work that way. I need time to process and I needed to feel like we were in this fight together.
I actually got excited there for a while when we were talking more, thinking that we could actually make a go of it. That maybe I overreacted. Then we met for lunch, and as I got out of my car to meet you, I saw you had two bags of stuff for me. Stuff that I'd left there, and my heart sank. I felt like the only reason you wanted to see me was to get rid of this stuff, to get me out of your heart and your place for good. I tried to keep calm as we sat and ate, but I couldn't get that image out of my head. The longer we were together, the more I felt like you were just done, and all I wanted to do was run. I thought we were meeting to start over, but it felt more like goodbye.
So, I guess that's where we are. Though I wasn't expecting an immediate response, I was expecting something, anything. I was so hopeful, that I actually started keeping a list of stuff to tell you about whenever you texted me back, but you never did. I have to accept that you are done with this relationship, and Jen told me that I should just "close it", so that's my plan. I'm done fighting for someone who doesn't want me. I've bagged up all the gifts you gave me (minus the Pete the Dragon movie that I gave to Joel), and with this letter, I'm moving on. I hope you can too. I want you to be happy, to find someone who will be everything you want and need.
I knew that my anxiety and depression was getting worse with all the chaos at school, and I was trying to wait until the end of the school year, for things to slow down before I went to the doctor. I thought I was strong enough to handle everything on my own and I was trying to hide it all from you. Because I wanted you to love me, and I didn't think you would once you saw how broken I really was. Maybe I thought that you could save me. I just didn't want you to see me the way you saw Amy--as a burden.
That Friday we went to The Funny Bone, Karleen had just gotten angry with mfe and told me how disappointed she was with me, with my performace as a teacher. She actually got angry enough to walk away from me, so I apologized for misunderstanding what she wanted and we talked it out. That afternoon, my ECI consultant, Sarah, came for our last meeting. I told her about meeting with Karleen, hoping to get it off my chest. I told her I didn't want you to know because I didn't want to ruin our plans for your birthday, but the truth is, I felt like a failure and I didn't want you to see me that way. I wanted to be good enough for you, and I didn't think you would stay with me if you believed I was a failure.
I tried so hard to keep everything from you, pretending to be okay, maybe that's why my headache was so bad. I cried in the bathroom of the hotel that night, reliving in slow motion her words, "I'm disappointed in you". I couldn't get those words out of my head, and I never wanted to hear them from you. I wanted to be everything you wanted me to be, and I did everything I could to make you happy, hoping you wouldn't leave me once I told you about my meeting with Karleen.
I never really got that chance though because out of nowhere, suddenly we were in a fight and I had no idea where I had gone wrong. I had done everything you ever asked of me. I got tickets to The Funny Bone. I drove to Des Moines, which scared the bejesus out of me. I baked you a cake, and I hate to bake. I was the doting, supportive girlfriend at church and then boom, you were done. There's this song by John Mayer called, St. Patrick's Day. It's about a relationship where the two are only together until St. Patrick's Day because "no one wants to be alone at Christmas time, come January, we're frozen inside, making new resolutions a hundred times, February won't you be my Valentine, and we'll both be safe til St. Patrick's Day". These two were only together to get through the holidays, and I began to believe that you were only with me to get through to your birthday. I felt like a fool, like I'd been duped.
I know you felt like you couldn't be the initiator of contact after what happened and Darin took you back to Creston, and I have to admit I still wanted all of this to work out. If only I could help you understand how you hurt me. Instead, it became my fault, my problem. If only I could get better, then we'd be able to put all this behind us and move forward. The problem is, I don;t work that way. I need time to process and I needed to feel like we were in this fight together.
I actually got excited there for a while when we were talking more, thinking that we could actually make a go of it. That maybe I overreacted. Then we met for lunch, and as I got out of my car to meet you, I saw you had two bags of stuff for me. Stuff that I'd left there, and my heart sank. I felt like the only reason you wanted to see me was to get rid of this stuff, to get me out of your heart and your place for good. I tried to keep calm as we sat and ate, but I couldn't get that image out of my head. The longer we were together, the more I felt like you were just done, and all I wanted to do was run. I thought we were meeting to start over, but it felt more like goodbye.
So, I guess that's where we are. Though I wasn't expecting an immediate response, I was expecting something, anything. I was so hopeful, that I actually started keeping a list of stuff to tell you about whenever you texted me back, but you never did. I have to accept that you are done with this relationship, and Jen told me that I should just "close it", so that's my plan. I'm done fighting for someone who doesn't want me. I've bagged up all the gifts you gave me (minus the Pete the Dragon movie that I gave to Joel), and with this letter, I'm moving on. I hope you can too. I want you to be happy, to find someone who will be everything you want and need.
Sunday, July 17, 2016
It's Over
My boyfriend and I broke up, well at least I think we did. Things have been rocky since the day he slapped me across the face for calling him "a liar". To be fair, I do have a tendency to call bullshit when I think someone is lying to me, and I apparently do it more than I should, but that doesn't excuse him slapping me. Honestly, after it happened, I was in shock; completely confused as to what had just happened. I thought we were happy; we had just spent the weekend in Des Moines celebrating his birthday at the Funny Bone Comedy Club. He had filled in at the pulpit for my dad on Sunday where he gave a very powerful, moving message. We even looked at a house just down the street from my parents. Everything was great...until that slap.
I can't say I remember with any kind of clarity what exactly took place after that, but I do remember having a sense that things would never be the same again. That even though I loved him and wanted to forgive him, the relationship was in a tailspin. As we talked (quite a while after the slap), it seemed he was through with me; he couldn't even tell me he loved me. I left the house in the middle of the night believing that it was over.
When I got up the next morning, he had apparently changed his mind. He said he loved me and that he was sorry, but as soon as I scoffed at his words, he responded by saying, "That's it, we're done." Of all the things I had felt before, now I just felt hopeless. In one breath, he said the words, "I love you" and "we're done". I had no idea what to believe, so I left for work (a safe place for me in all of this).
After breaking down in tears and spilling everything that happened to one of my associates, I called my parents (who were inconveniently out of town), and told them what happened. My mom had exactly the reaction I expected, "That's it; it's over". My dad, too, reacted in just the way I suspected saying, "You know, everybody makes mistakes". Though I knew that would be my dad's reaction, I still hoped deep down, that he would be more concerned about me, but he's a loving guy to the end.
The following weeks were filled with short texts, a meeting with my dad to try to "clear the air" and a lot of questioning and struggling on my part. How did we get here? Is there something I could have done differently? How could this guy give such an amazing sermon and then slap me just hours later? Was he ever happy in the relationship, or did he just truly want a new family? Did he ever really love me? Did I really love him?
We continued texting, but I was usually the first one to make contact. If I'm being completely honest, I was dying to talk to him about anything. I thought about him all the time, and I was just looking for reasons to text him, mostly just stupid stuff; funny things that happened at work, dropping my phone and cracking my screen, jokes, crossword puzzle clues, ordering a new phone. When I told him about having to get a new phone, he seemed excited that I would have to come to Creston (where he lives) to get it activated and that there could be a chance that we could share a meal. This gave me hope, that he still wanted to continue the relationship, so we met for lunch just a couple of weeks ago. It was awkward at best, mostly because he greeted me outside his apartment building with two bags of stuff that I had left at his place (dishes, Kleenex, a shirt...). I have to admit, I was confused by this. Did he just want to see me to get rid of this stuff? Is he just cleaning me out of his apartment so that he can move on comfortably with is life?
We walked to a downtown restaurant and engaged in mostly small talk; stories about work, mutual friends, parents, and other random stuff. We never once discussed how we got to this point, or where we were going to go from here. We walked back to his place, he checked his mail and then invited me up to his apartment. I declined the offer, mostly because I was tired, but I was uncomfortable too, as if I was eating with a perfect stranger. His parting words to me were, "Keep in touch". Really, "keep in touch"!! Is your phone broken? Why do I have to be the one to "keep in touch"?
It took me a while to understand that I didn't want to be the one to "keep in touch". I wanted him to fight for me, for the relationship. I believed that if he truly loved me (the way I loved him) that he would be dying to talk to me, to tell me he missed me, that he loved me, and he would want to know how things were going. I texted him maybe once after we had lunch, hoping to start a conversation, but as soon as he was done talking about the question I asked, that was it, no more texts.
I finally decided to tell him all the things I was feeling and what I wanted from him. I wrote out this long text about how I wanted him to fight for me, for the relationship, I wanted someone who could love me even when I'm down and depressed, someone who would remind me that only God's opinion of my mattered. In the last line of the text, I told him that the ball was now in his court, and you know what I got back....Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
So, I waited...one day, then two, three, four. On day six, I went to counseling (the first since my counselor went on vacation). She asked me how things were going with him, and I told her that I felt that it was over. I haven't heard from him at all since that text, and we're currently on day 10. I wasn't really expecting a quick response, but maybe a "Got your message, thinking it over", but when I got nothing back for days, I was sad, disappointed. I honestly keep checking my phone, hoping that he'd text or call, but he's obviously decided that being with a woman who struggles with anxiety and depression is too much work for him. I'm not good enough to be with him. Maybe that's what hurts the most.
You see, I knew from day one that some day I'd be in this position, but I still wanted to believe that it was possible that someone could really love me, all of me, crazy and all. I allowed myself to be happy, to believe that it could be real, all the while waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to decide that we weren't meant to be. That weekend, celebrating his birthday in Des Moines, I remember telling him that if he were going to change his mind about our being together, that he do it before he put a ring on my finger (one that he'd supposedly already bought). Looking back, that's exactly what happened, just not how I envisioned it.
So, I guess my boyfriend and I broke up, but I wish I knew if he ever really loved me.
I can't say I remember with any kind of clarity what exactly took place after that, but I do remember having a sense that things would never be the same again. That even though I loved him and wanted to forgive him, the relationship was in a tailspin. As we talked (quite a while after the slap), it seemed he was through with me; he couldn't even tell me he loved me. I left the house in the middle of the night believing that it was over.
When I got up the next morning, he had apparently changed his mind. He said he loved me and that he was sorry, but as soon as I scoffed at his words, he responded by saying, "That's it, we're done." Of all the things I had felt before, now I just felt hopeless. In one breath, he said the words, "I love you" and "we're done". I had no idea what to believe, so I left for work (a safe place for me in all of this).
After breaking down in tears and spilling everything that happened to one of my associates, I called my parents (who were inconveniently out of town), and told them what happened. My mom had exactly the reaction I expected, "That's it; it's over". My dad, too, reacted in just the way I suspected saying, "You know, everybody makes mistakes". Though I knew that would be my dad's reaction, I still hoped deep down, that he would be more concerned about me, but he's a loving guy to the end.
The following weeks were filled with short texts, a meeting with my dad to try to "clear the air" and a lot of questioning and struggling on my part. How did we get here? Is there something I could have done differently? How could this guy give such an amazing sermon and then slap me just hours later? Was he ever happy in the relationship, or did he just truly want a new family? Did he ever really love me? Did I really love him?
We continued texting, but I was usually the first one to make contact. If I'm being completely honest, I was dying to talk to him about anything. I thought about him all the time, and I was just looking for reasons to text him, mostly just stupid stuff; funny things that happened at work, dropping my phone and cracking my screen, jokes, crossword puzzle clues, ordering a new phone. When I told him about having to get a new phone, he seemed excited that I would have to come to Creston (where he lives) to get it activated and that there could be a chance that we could share a meal. This gave me hope, that he still wanted to continue the relationship, so we met for lunch just a couple of weeks ago. It was awkward at best, mostly because he greeted me outside his apartment building with two bags of stuff that I had left at his place (dishes, Kleenex, a shirt...). I have to admit, I was confused by this. Did he just want to see me to get rid of this stuff? Is he just cleaning me out of his apartment so that he can move on comfortably with is life?
We walked to a downtown restaurant and engaged in mostly small talk; stories about work, mutual friends, parents, and other random stuff. We never once discussed how we got to this point, or where we were going to go from here. We walked back to his place, he checked his mail and then invited me up to his apartment. I declined the offer, mostly because I was tired, but I was uncomfortable too, as if I was eating with a perfect stranger. His parting words to me were, "Keep in touch". Really, "keep in touch"!! Is your phone broken? Why do I have to be the one to "keep in touch"?
It took me a while to understand that I didn't want to be the one to "keep in touch". I wanted him to fight for me, for the relationship. I believed that if he truly loved me (the way I loved him) that he would be dying to talk to me, to tell me he missed me, that he loved me, and he would want to know how things were going. I texted him maybe once after we had lunch, hoping to start a conversation, but as soon as he was done talking about the question I asked, that was it, no more texts.
I finally decided to tell him all the things I was feeling and what I wanted from him. I wrote out this long text about how I wanted him to fight for me, for the relationship, I wanted someone who could love me even when I'm down and depressed, someone who would remind me that only God's opinion of my mattered. In the last line of the text, I told him that the ball was now in his court, and you know what I got back....Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.
So, I waited...one day, then two, three, four. On day six, I went to counseling (the first since my counselor went on vacation). She asked me how things were going with him, and I told her that I felt that it was over. I haven't heard from him at all since that text, and we're currently on day 10. I wasn't really expecting a quick response, but maybe a "Got your message, thinking it over", but when I got nothing back for days, I was sad, disappointed. I honestly keep checking my phone, hoping that he'd text or call, but he's obviously decided that being with a woman who struggles with anxiety and depression is too much work for him. I'm not good enough to be with him. Maybe that's what hurts the most.
You see, I knew from day one that some day I'd be in this position, but I still wanted to believe that it was possible that someone could really love me, all of me, crazy and all. I allowed myself to be happy, to believe that it could be real, all the while waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to decide that we weren't meant to be. That weekend, celebrating his birthday in Des Moines, I remember telling him that if he were going to change his mind about our being together, that he do it before he put a ring on my finger (one that he'd supposedly already bought). Looking back, that's exactly what happened, just not how I envisioned it.
So, I guess my boyfriend and I broke up, but I wish I knew if he ever really loved me.
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