I thought I would miss him I really did. I thought it would be painful to crave his presence and the scent of his cologne. I thought I would worry about whether he is safe and eating properly, or not going out on the weekends and being tempted by drink and drugs. I really thought I would miss his presence and singing in the car with him…or the way he would get me a glass of water with extra ice cubes, because he knew I liked it cold…I really thought I would miss him.
But I didn’t and I still don’t. Because I remember the damage he did to me…
The mental cuts he placed upon my brain, from making me feel worthless, I remember them,
The worry and the pain he inflicted upon me as he went out and did whatever he wanted, I remember that,
The messages he would exchange between other women, making me doubt myself entirely, I remember them,
The day, he would kiss me tell me he loved me, go out, and not return home until the next day…I remember that,
The Monday morning after a heavy night when he would need to dip into my bank balance, I remember that,
The evening he cheated on me, came back and let me buy him dinner whilst he lied to my face, he was never going to tell me…I remember that,
The times he would make me feel like everything was my fault, oh those times that brought me to introvercy, I remember those,
The times he would tell me if I ever left him he would kill himself, I remember those…
I remember walking into that stella scented room on a sunday morning, not knowing what state I was going to find him in… he usually would be wearing a jumper, drenched in sweat from where his body was rejecting the substances he had been putting into it. His eyes would be swollen and his breath would smell of alcohol…there would be beer cans scattered across the room, which he had been using as a toilet because he was to paranoid to walk upstairs and use his own. His bones would stick out of his body as he would ask me to hold him to make him feel better…The routine was to cool his body down, get his jumper off, clear up the beer cans, get him a glass of water and sit with him until he was done with consuming the rest of the white substance he had left and wait for him to sober up. I learnt that he didn’t like being left on his own.
You see, I loved him so much. Every bone in his body I loved and I didn’t know why. That love I had for him began to deteriorate as his personality did. I became broken mentally as my whole life became consumed with this man that I could barely call a boyfriend. I tried to leave a lot but was mentally fatigued, I feared what he would do if I actually continued with the break up and moved on. I feel awful for breaking up with him so many times because no person should deal with that from there significant other, but he knew he could manipulate me back into his arms…he knew he possessed that power over me… he mentally abused me and he knew he did, and it is sad that he never apologised…apologised for snapping me in two and lying about anything and everything that he did not need to lie about to me.
I am devastated at the way it ended, I wanted to be civil and to end it with any love and respect we had left for each other. However, we didn’t. He pushed and pushed to make something work that just couldn’t until I couldn’t take it anymore, until I was so broken from everything that happened, everything that I had seen, every lie he had told me, all the money I had spent trying to help him and all the time and love I gave him… that I ended it with spite and hatred.
Now the break up is said and done I realise that I don’t miss him…I dont crave him or love him. I rarely think about him. Unless someone speaks to me about him or sends me a photo of him making an appearance on a night out. He is a stranger now…known as the man that broke me to the point of contemplating my own suicide…known as the man that was to selfish to realise that his lies and behaviour impacted the one he made his girlfriend to the distruction of her own mental health and physical health.
I hold no more feelings towards him. But I wish him to be healthy and happy. I wish that he finds someone he falls so deeply in love with that he doesn’t do to her what he did to me. I hope he never takes that powerful white substance again, the one that coloured his eyes and his heart black.
Break ups are horrible. They hurt and they wound you. I would say there is somewhat an aspect of PTSD involved with breaking up with someone. Everyone goes through a breakup at least once in there life…I get that some are harder than others. If you are going through a break up, please don’t feel alone. Talk to your family or me!…
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p.s – I understand this blog contains sensitive information. I like to post content from all different aspects of my life – the good and the bad.
If you are in a mentally or physically abusive relationship please contact: https://www.womensaid.org.uk/information-support/helpline/