Should I just stop talking to him forever?

[Psyclon]

That whole "The five stages of loss" process is really digging its nails into my heart at this time. Suicidal thoughts ebb and flow, and swell to the point where I find myself fishing through my roommate's drawers for pills, yet, other times, I'm fine. My nights are sleepless. When the image of his face arrives in my mind, the emotional sensation is akin to an acid splash in my chest.

 

He's how we got started....

 

It was the kickoff of November, and times were good. College brought me good grades, new friends, and just a parade of awesome times and homely memories. Our love was one of them.

 

We sat at our computer screens, and even at hundreds of miles away, I was drawn to him. There was just this gravitational pull that gripped my interest for no reason whatsoever. We met in a chat room. He was so colorful, radiant, and sensitive. My previous relationships were along the lines of: Young Marine, Air Force, MMA Fighter, Marine, and him. The sensitive one, and he was the most abrasive of them all.

 

Our time together was explosive. Our conversations would extend into the wee hours of the morning, and we would rush to our computer desks at work just to indulge in each other's company. We shared similar kinky interests (which was the breeding grounds of our mutual passion), and we displayed a mentality of best friends. Buds. Chums. We also spoiled each other with more love and affection than our own parents have done for us in our lifetimes. What we didn't have was a mental alignment, and this bloodied everything.

 

I do recall that when he asked me out, I changed. I pulled back, became more steady, more withdrawn. More scared. But when the initial intimidation cleared, the intensity and love grew.

 

After three months of meeting one another, we arranged to have me move in with him, especially as the oppressive circumstances in my environment rendered me miserable.

 

We ****ed up.

 

It was the third day of living with him, were he began to greet me with hurt, pensive gazes. There was a pleasant gap of activity where we wined and dined, but it was an extremely short time before we were over. He claimed his depression was acting up, and he said we weren't going to work out as partners. "Just not gonna work out" was his dig. And he spawned a very strange, pseudo-link between us. Somewhere along the lines of a shattered relationship, a duo of kink partners, and apprehensive friends.

 

We cuddled. We kissed. We pleasured one another. We "kinked out". We had chats. I don't know what it was, or how to describe it, all I know is, it wasn't right.

 

I spiraled out of sobriety. Here's a list of the bits in pieces of what I can recall from our time together in my memory:

 

(-)He would leave the house to visit his friends, and rarely invited me. Telling me, "I was just want to go alone, is that okay?"

 

(+)He continued to take care of me, greet me with affection, pay for me, and lean sympathetic ears to my problems.

 

(-)After the break-up, he originally made a vow to spend as much time with me as he could before we parted ways. The truth was, 80% of the time, he stayed at home, often glued to netflix or the computer, instead of obliging his promise.

 

(-)At the beginning, he used to tell me that he "needed me" and "loved me" and it melted my heart. During this time, however, he confessed that he wanted me "the **** out of his house."

 

(+)At times, he acted like a spot-on companion. Playful, affectionate, at very receptive. At times, he was the man I fell in love with.

 

Oh and um... He was a wizard with his mouth. (Yes sir, and if you ever stumble upon this, and you know who's posting this, you keep that up. Even when I'm mad and confused with you like I am now, I would still broadcast your skills to the anonymous world. Yes sir. Keep it up. Cos that **** works.)

 

The fact of the matter is, after taking care of him like I did, the deep-reaching, intimate things I've done for him, how I see him...

 

I love every dark hair on top of his head. Whether it turns grey, receeds, whatever happens to it, or him, or any part of him, every imperfection he's ever frowned over. Every nipple hair, every lb of fat on his body, (no, he's not a beast, all of us human beings have these things, and all of us hate them, the truth is, I love him so much, that even love these things about him...)

 

I love every face he's ever made. From his almighty smirk to the smile he squeezes out to suppress tears. I love his velvet voice, his sharp stubbornness. I love how he had the ability to make me feel like a woman and a little girl at the same time.

 

There's only a few things that anchor my sentiments when I have thoughts like these...

 

1. I can not keep up with him intellectually. He must have a strand of genius in his DNA. He was extremely knowledgeable in all subjects, often leaving me speechless as he dived in, head-first into a conversation.

 

2. He confessed to me, even at the height of our affections, "I don't love you as much as you love me."

 

Now, he's wishy-washy with his replies. Sometimes he'll talk to me, sometimes he won't. In the meantime, my mental stability is hinging on his attention. Although I've kept this to myself, I know I shouldn't...

 

He tells me he's retreating back into depression, as a justification for my neglected calls.

 

Our contact is mutual. Currently, I'm not hounding him, and he's not hounding me. However, after a recent pattern of sporadically ignoring my calls, I'm contemplating on serving all ties with him, to spare my mental stability. Even though, just recently, I told him I'd always be there for him, and I understand him.

 

I currently have 4 stale messages in my inbox... where I've read them but not replied. They announce the arrival of his creeping depression, and inform me to not tell his mother, as the news of him being upset makes her miserable. (He is intensively suicidal, suicidal to the point where his mother and I conspirated to commit him) The last message reads, " -hug- "

 

Damnit man, I need to put my head before my heart sometimes....

 

If I smash contact with him, would I be doing the right thing?

[McGriff]

Good god, this reads like a romance novel. When are you gonna publish the next chapter?! "Misery is alive!! Misery is alive!! I'm gonna go put on one of my Liberace albums!!"

[ThatJustHappened]

Haha, totally McGriff!

 

OP, yes..you should cut him off. You can't help him unless he is willing to help himself, and it seems like he's not at this time. There's nothing more you can do.

[Psyclon]

Thank you for your input, and thanks McGriff

 

Well, its not that I want to help him... its just that I would like to have him as a friend. I feel a pitter-patter in my chest when I think of him. Man. This ****'s not easy....