Letmeknow Posted March 8, 2016 Posted March 8, 2016 (edited) My Breakup Story Note, the important details will be underlined if you want to skim read From time to time, I catch myself reminiscing about the only years in my life where I was actually in a relationship. See, I’ve only been in 1 relationship in my young 22.9 years of life, but this relationship lasted 3 years and was extremely vital in my growth as a human being. Why? I was a late bloomer to the social scene in high school. I didn’t hang out with people until my junior year and I didn’t have my first kiss until the 12th grade. Then once I started dating her, I began to pop all these other cherries I had yet to do. Virginity, anniversaries, real dates, admiration, love. I had yet to experience any of these things as a young shy boy raised to respect the hell out of women. See, I've always put the p*ssy on a pedestal, and I made sure this girl knew how much she meant to me. But even then, throughout the relationship I ALWAYS questioned if she was right for me. I mean we told each other I love you every day and we both talked about marriage and the rest of our lives like it was a given, but there was always that voice in the back of my head that said “Are you sure?” The thing was, that voice was right although I didn’t know it yet. When the relationship ended in Dec. 2013 due to my weed smoking, I was utterly lost. I remember threatening suicide when she found out I was smoking (I was lying and hiding it from her). I remember threatening suicide when she broke up with me. I remember punching walls, banging my head against doors, and getting completely hammered at a work party the night before the breakup. Then the tears, I woke up from nightmares trembling at 3 am almost every night after that. I couldn’t go back to sleep, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t put myself together. All I cared about was getting her back. Nothing else mattered. I had to have her, I wanted her – I mean she was the only thing I’d ever had. She was my first in almost every romantic facet. I missed her. I ached for her. My life was over without her. I begged and begged and begged. She wanted to space, but I was too needy. I had to get her now, no excuses. She would tell me I promise we are going to get back together but I just need space. I would try to give it to her, but my mind would always find a way to not respect her wishes. I was a little boy with no self-control. I only cared about myself and what I could do to stop these feelings. I rationalized that texting/talking/skyping/writing her was the only way I could feel better. But with each long romantic message I sent and with each day that passed she would go more and more distant with me. She would be cold on me and not respond for a few hours, few days, or a few weeks. But I knew she read my messages. It was obvious. And I would get so angry. With every non-response, I would feel worse. Then I discovered there was possibly another guy in the picture, but she replied and assured me it was just a friend. I believed her. I mean, why not? (Shaking my head right now) Now it’s Mid-March 2014 and she hasn’t responded to my last 20 emails/messages whatever I sent over the course of 3-4 weeks or so. At this point, I’m on a spring break trip with 4 of my guy friends, but I’m completely out of it. I cry when no one’s looking, I’m sad, lethargic, fatigued, weak, just not myself. (Also, still in college at this point and am failing most of my classes - had a 3.9 gpa at a well known college as a Math major before that semester) I send her a novel of a message once more on a Thursday morning when I discover she has unblocked me on Facebook. To such surprise, she responds. My heart is racing. What do I do next?? This is my chance. I’ll finally get her back. She tells me she is on a spring break trip in Gulf Shores and that she will call me when she gets back home. The next night she calls and after some tears and forgiveness, she tells me that she wants to make love to me and that she wants to see if any feelings are still there. I’m hesitant, but I love this woman and even after all that has happened, I want her back. I tell her that if she wants to see me she has to give me three hours of her time. She agrees and we meet for lunch on that Sunday. One of the first questions she asks me is if I have smoked weed since the last time we spoke and I tell her yes. I was honest. We go back to my apartment and she comes in. I have already loaded a playlist with 10 or so of the most meaningful songs from our relationship. When we go into my room I play the list and she begins to tear up and tell me to turn it off. I don’t understand this at all. She couldn’t kiss me and it was obvious something was not quite right. She tells me she has to go to the bathroom, and when she comes back out she has no clothes on. She is fully nude, practically asking for it. I regret what comes next. Why don’t I say, “What the **** are you doing!! Go put your clothes on!” But no, we f*ck. We don’t make love. As much as I try to make it emotional, it is so obvious she is only in it for the fun. Afterwards she tells me, “I didn’t feel anything.” And I just sit on the side of my bed with my head down. I know it’s over. At this point, I just know that something so bad is coming next. I am so sad, but I don’t want her to go. She picks my head up and says “what’s wrong.” I tell her, “I know that we aren’t getting back together” and I let my head fall back down looking at the floor again. She says she has to go, so I walk her to her car and the last words I say to her is “I love you.” She looks into my eyes and says “I love you too.” She drives off and I’ve yet to see her again. What happens next is the worst 3 days of my entire life. She doesn’t text me back that night. The next day she sends me one text. Then the following day (Tuesday) I discover the most traumatic thing that I have yet to experience. My ex-first love is in a relationship. She has been seeing him for weeks now. She calls me this day to tell me she is changing her phone number (I begged her not to), and then that was it. I find out over the next few days she went on a spring break trip with him posting pictures on Facebook kissing. Her man crush Monday the day after having sex with me is a picture with him. To say I’m lost and hurt at this point is an understatement. I’m beyond shocked. I knew there was always a chance I would get hurt more if I kept yearning for her and trying to get her back, but I still thought it was worth it. The hole in my heart, the pit in my stomach, I couldn’t get out of bed, I couldn’t move. I could only cry in disbelief until I had no more tears to cry. What comes next is a series of messages to my ex that are the worst and most demeaning words I have ever spoke to someone. “What a slut you are”, “I wish you were dead”, “I can’t believe people like you are alive in this world”, “You piece of ****”. With every message, I become more saddened, angrier, more tearful, more lost. She reacts by going to the police with my words and I get a call from a cop threatening a restraining order. Really? I’ve never laid a finger on a woman in my life, although I understand where she was coming from. The thing is though, the cop was misinformed and didn’t know the full story (sex just 4 days before on that Sunday). I get to talk to my ex at this point, but every word I spit out is filled with emotional tears and every word of hers comes with such a calm demeanor. I can’t begin to process what is happening and to this day that is the last time I have spoken with her. Soon after, I want to commit suicide for real this time. I have it planned out, I have a full prescription of Zoloft/sleeping pills/a big bottle of ibuprofen. I’m going to take them all at the same time, it has to work. But for some reason I call my Dad with the pills in my hand, I tell him that I want to die. I can’t live like this anymore. My college pastor calls randomly (to this day I don’t know why) and somehow I get checked into a rehab facility where I stay for a week and learn the tools to help with my emotions. Yes, over the next months I sent her more emails. I sent her mom messages. But never to a reply. Was every message that I’ve sent after the breakup a mistake – hell yes. Today is 3/8/2016 and the last message I sent to her occurred on 11/22/2015 when I got black out drunk and sent her “I love you and I know you still love me too.” (b4 then was a message on 8/15/2015 and b4 that 2/12/2015) I haven’t gotten black out drunk since that November night. I don’t know why I sent her that, but obviously it was because I still think about her. And obviously the drinking was a problem and I’ve addressed that and am currently working on it. I’ve had sex with 4 women since her, and have been on dates with 30+ women but have not been in a relationship since. There have been 2/3 prospects that I could have dated, but I was either a) not ready or b) screwed it up due to not being over my ex and projecting my insecurities onto the woman. I haven’t tried to date anyone for 4 months now, because I want to be completely over her. I'm tired of it. I've had enough. There’s a lot of things I did wrong in our relationship and the after math that I still feel guilty about. And it’s obvious I’m not over her if I keep writing about it and have the urge to message her. I want to be over her and open my heart to the possibility for someone new, but I think I’m afraid. I’m afraid of being hurt, and I’m afraid to cause hurt. I have emotional baggage and it’s tough. I’m an attractive young smart person with an amazing family, friends, and job. I volunteer, I work out and I own my own car/rent out my own apartment/ and do things for entertainment on a weekly basis. I’m taking the necessary steps to be who I want to be, but I’m ready for the next step. I’m ready to open myself up and find that next girl. I’m ready to put my ex in the past and shut that door for good. I’m ready. I’m ready. Or do I just think I am? Edited March 8, 2016 by Letmeknow
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