Today, my six month relationship ended. It was inevitable. For at least three weeks I had been walking around on egg shells practically waiting for it to happen. And it did - on my six month "anniversary."
Six months sounds like a drop in the bucket, but for me, it was everything. I put in the effort, the time, the energy to truthfully not get any of that in return. The first six months you're with someone should be the honeymoon phase, but unfortunately I didn't get that. Within the first week of us chatting, he kicked me to the curb out of the blue to only text me two hours later saying he was sorry. Fast forward to the next month when out of the blue, he angrily breaks up with me, to only text me shortly after we hung up the phone to say he overreacted and that we were still together. Again, fast forward to the next month, when he again, angrily breaks up with me, picks up his stuff the following day to only text me later that night asking for me back and if he can come over and talk. In a three month time span, he had broken it off with me three times. Every time I took him back. Every time I hoped it wouldn't happen it again. Every time hoping it would get better. From there on, every time we argued or had a disagreement, I immediately went in to panic mode - crying, begging for it not to happen again.
It never did. It never got better. Well, I take that back. It would be good for about a week and then his true self would shine through for a few days, he'd get angry at me over something petty and stupid and then he'd get over it and all seemed fine again. And then the cycle would start up again. And again. To be honest, I'd say out of the six months we dated, he got mad at me at least twice a week. And it was never justifiable. It was never him being angry because I lied or cheated or did something legitimate, it was being angry because I was over-expressing emotions or had asked too many times to hang out in a week.
Every time he'd get mad at me, I'd immediately apologize, freak out, tell him how much I cared about him and to please not be mad at me. I'd tell him I'd "fix it" and "work on it" but at the same time sitting here wondering what exactly I was supposed to be fixing and working on since I couldn't wrap my head around why exactly he was mad. I was just trying to appease the situation. Even today, I couldn't wrap my head around what he was telling me he was mad about. I just keep thinking, is this really something to be mad over?
I found myself taking screen shots of any and every sweet thing he said. When he'd get mad at me, I'd immediately go to my photos and re-read those screen shots, hanging on to the glimpse of "happiness" I thought I had. Truth be told, I don't think I was ever happy.
I was settling.
There are things in my relationship I started to really notice in the last few weeks when things were becoming unbearably bad. I realized how little I had to say to him. I've talked to people in my life that I could stay up until 3AM just talking about everything under the sun. With him, I didn't have that. We'd sit beside each other in pure silence because I literally couldn't think of a single thing to say to him. I realized how unexcited I was to see him and how often I sat anxious wondering what kind of mood he was going to be in that day. He kept making stupid rules I was expected to follow like I wasn't supposed to ask him to hang out unless I had a plan, like go to the pool. I was supposed to just sit and see if he'd feel like seeing me, if he'd feel like making the effort.
I heard "I love you," "I want a future with you," "you complete me," etc. for months but truth be told, in hindsight, his actions never matched up. I didn't feel loved but maybe once in a blue moon. I barely even felt wanted some days. A future? A future with me that he didn't want to discuss. Out of all of this, I hate feeling like I fell for the words. I fell for the words because for so long I had waited and hoped and prayed that one day, someone would feel that way about me. Someone would love me and want a future with me. I kept wanting to make him be that person. I was trying to fit a square peg into a round hole - kind of like trying to shove your oddly-shaped plastic bowl from Moe's into that tiny little round hole of the trash can.
I'm not writing this to bash my ex. I'm writing this because after the tears have all flowed and I've taken all the pictures out of the frames and thrown the tooth brush and shower stuff in the trash, I feel liberated. I feel relieved. The dark cloud is gone. I was settling for less than I deserve. I was settling for someone who made me feel like loving me is hard.
Now it's time for the next chapter. For six months, I've allowed myself to be all-consumed in a relationship that was unhealthy. I hid the pain and I did my best to pretend everything was great. Now, it's up to me to make myself happy and live my life to the fullest. I no longer have to walk on egg shells. I no longer have to worry about the mood the person on the other end is in. I have one person (other than my dog, of course) to worry about, and that's me.
Six months sounds like a drop in the bucket, but for me, it was everything. I put in the effort, the time, the energy to truthfully not get any of that in return. The first six months you're with someone should be the honeymoon phase, but unfortunately I didn't get that. Within the first week of us chatting, he kicked me to the curb out of the blue to only text me two hours later saying he was sorry. Fast forward to the next month when out of the blue, he angrily breaks up with me, to only text me shortly after we hung up the phone to say he overreacted and that we were still together. Again, fast forward to the next month, when he again, angrily breaks up with me, picks up his stuff the following day to only text me later that night asking for me back and if he can come over and talk. In a three month time span, he had broken it off with me three times. Every time I took him back. Every time I hoped it wouldn't happen it again. Every time hoping it would get better. From there on, every time we argued or had a disagreement, I immediately went in to panic mode - crying, begging for it not to happen again.
It never did. It never got better. Well, I take that back. It would be good for about a week and then his true self would shine through for a few days, he'd get angry at me over something petty and stupid and then he'd get over it and all seemed fine again. And then the cycle would start up again. And again. To be honest, I'd say out of the six months we dated, he got mad at me at least twice a week. And it was never justifiable. It was never him being angry because I lied or cheated or did something legitimate, it was being angry because I was over-expressing emotions or had asked too many times to hang out in a week.
Every time he'd get mad at me, I'd immediately apologize, freak out, tell him how much I cared about him and to please not be mad at me. I'd tell him I'd "fix it" and "work on it" but at the same time sitting here wondering what exactly I was supposed to be fixing and working on since I couldn't wrap my head around why exactly he was mad. I was just trying to appease the situation. Even today, I couldn't wrap my head around what he was telling me he was mad about. I just keep thinking, is this really something to be mad over?
I found myself taking screen shots of any and every sweet thing he said. When he'd get mad at me, I'd immediately go to my photos and re-read those screen shots, hanging on to the glimpse of "happiness" I thought I had. Truth be told, I don't think I was ever happy.
I was settling.
I heard "I love you," "I want a future with you," "you complete me," etc. for months but truth be told, in hindsight, his actions never matched up. I didn't feel loved but maybe once in a blue moon. I barely even felt wanted some days. A future? A future with me that he didn't want to discuss. Out of all of this, I hate feeling like I fell for the words. I fell for the words because for so long I had waited and hoped and prayed that one day, someone would feel that way about me. Someone would love me and want a future with me. I kept wanting to make him be that person. I was trying to fit a square peg into a round hole - kind of like trying to shove your oddly-shaped plastic bowl from Moe's into that tiny little round hole of the trash can.
I'm not writing this to bash my ex. I'm writing this because after the tears have all flowed and I've taken all the pictures out of the frames and thrown the tooth brush and shower stuff in the trash, I feel liberated. I feel relieved. The dark cloud is gone. I was settling for less than I deserve. I was settling for someone who made me feel like loving me is hard.
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