Is or was it actually real

[Broken_Mark]

I found this place and it says anonymous. There are very few places I can actually go to be talked to like a real human being. The reason for that is I am what society generally agrees is beyond redemption, and good only for disappearing. I am the "possessive/abusive boyfriend." To be clear, she is safe and dating someone else now for a few months. Also, I was never physically abusive. Well, there were times I grabbed her kinda tight to get her attention, and looking back I guess that can be considered physical abuse, but that wasn't my intent. I never hit her.

I am seeing a therapist now, and trying to get better. I understand some things now, and please don't think this is me trying to get pity, it's just what the therapist says, apparently my mom leaving when I was 7 caused me severe abandonment issues. I didn't notice that really, apart from being as sad as one should when mom leaves. Anyway, I was always wanting to be the center of attention, always the loudest one in the room, always ready to fight, and started training in jiu-jitsu when I was 13. So I was probably the guy normal people hate, but I always had plenty of friends. Some say my issues caused me to behave a certain way, but I had plenty of girlfriends, and while I didn't always treat them great, I wasn't super sad when they left. That confuses me. If it's just psychological, why didn't it bother me when they left, for good I mean?

Then I met "her." At a park, trying to help a hurt bird. I ended up taking off my jacket and wrapping the little bird in it, which is how we met and began to talk. We started dating the week before the bird was better and we let it go. I was a little nervous about letting the bird (she named her Mira) go. Her words play in my head now always. That day she said, "let her fly." We fell for each other super fast. We hit it off and it felt like a movie. Complete with her rubbing pasta sauce on my face the first time she made me her family meal. I had never felt that. She was perfect. Her smile, her laugh, the way she told stories, the look she would give if she thought I wasn't paying attention, or if I was acting silly. She is the sweetest, nicest person in the world. Since, this is anonymous, I can admit to crying over my mom in her arms. I miss how I would lay my head in her lap, or how she would rest her feet on my thighs while she browsed insta. I would trace her ankle with my fingers and just stare at her beautiful face. We made all these future plans. She was the one.

Of course, the therapist says that is unhealthy to say, it's just how I felt. That she was "the one." She was way too good for me. She loved me and forgave me so many times. It started small at first, I would text her often, asking where she was. Then I would ask for pics to know where she was. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, I just felt worried. The first major fight was when I showed up to her friends birthday party. I heard there were male strippers there. I waited at home, going crazy. Please understand that therapists say it isn't really rage or anger, but abandonment panic attacks. I would start to shake and feel hot like I was burning. I had to have her with me. I went and dragged her away. That night I called her a slut for the first time. But she wasn't unfaithful, she was a great and loyal. She forgave me and I cried like a baby. I clocked into work late the next morning knowing I had called her ugly names. I sat in the truck for an hour and cried. I just couldn't stop. That's not an excuse, I could have done hard work and gotten better, but I didn't.

Please believe me when I say I'm not trying to get sympathy. I can only say what I feel and what therapists say. She later said that I suffocated her. That she had to walk on eggshells, and feel guilty about laughing at another guy's joke, or forgetting to answer a text right away. Out of all the songs that could have been "our song," it ended up being "Glycerine" by Bush. It played on the first trip we took together. She said "yes!" and turned it up. I was like "you like Bush?!? Could you be any more perfect?" Now it's like I never knew it but the lyrics to that song have 2 meanings. One for when we were together, and one since I lost her. She later said the first time she went out with her friends after the break up, she cried later from relief, when she realized there weren't a thousand texts saying "where are you" or "get home." That cuts like a knife.

Again, I know I'm the bad guy here. The a**h***. That's not up for debate. Sometimes I just wanna scream "do my feelings matter??" People seem to think my love for her was never real. Or that is wasn't healthy, which I admit, and the best thing for everybody is for me to forget her. I just don't wanna forget her. I don't wanna date again, and I want to keep those memories. My friends helped me scrub my apartment and phone of all the pictures and reminders of her. Then, just the other day I find a pic that I forgot about. I saved it in my notes, because I was gonna make a collage, but I ended up forgetting about it. I don't wanna delete that pic. I took it the day she first moved in. Just her smiling in front of a window. I wanna keep that pic, I want to keep that happy memory always. The therapist says that can be okay as long as I do certain things and don't pull it up to stare at it and start thinking about us together again.

So yeah, I know I'm the jerk. The stereotype that society agrees is no good and likely irredeemable. I know everyone else can't be wrong while I alone am right. It's so hard not to reach out one more time. Like, I know if she could see I really am (somewhat) better and trying to get better everyday, that she would try again. But, I know that's wrong and that she doesn't owe me anything. It just feels like we stayed together and grew old, but somehow I came back through time to a timeline where I lose her. I guess my whole point here is just, was it never real? Was it meaningless? Am I supposed to stop loving her?

[MsJayne]

Sorry you lost this girl and you’re going through this, kudos to you for having the guts to go through therapy. Has your therapist raised the issue of your repressed rage towards your mother and how that anger dictated the way you treated this girl you love? Is your mother a part of your adult life?