Reality Bites, or something like that

Amber Run- I Found (Acoustic, London Contemporary Voices)

There’s a feeling that is welling up inside of me, or maybe it’s a multitude of different ones, but they refuse to be named and set free.  I can’t stop obsessing over the onslaught that I know will come soon, yet stubbornly sits festering deep inside of me.

The past 2 years began as exciting and full of a possible future that I hadn’t dared to let myself believe I might find.  It’s ended with me right back where I began and $10K in debt for my troubles.  I’ve been desperately searching for some kind of reasoning to explain why, as it was made clear that I wasn’t going to get the satisfaction from him, and I keep finding articles about- “10 signs that you’re in a relationship with a narcissist” or “How can you tell if your partner has no empathy” or “Are you dating a psychopath”.  These all have bits and pieces that I can relate to, but none of them have given me a smoking gun that helps me to understand how I could have avoided all of this.

In reality, all of the Zen web sites are probably right when they tell me that time heals all wound, you should love yourself, and don’t let a bad yesterday spoil today- I just don’t believe it right now.  It takes 2 people to make or break a relationship and in this instance I’ve been accused of being cold and boring (i.e.- not wanting to go out and do anything), and sure- I’ll own that.  I was with a man who made clear to me that if I wanted him to do something that I would have to constantly remind him (he had ADHD) and who spent the majority of the past 2 years unemployed- meaning that I was paying for his car insurance, cell phone, psychiatric visits, medications, food, clothing, and I’m rambling.

At the time, I thought that we were a team, that he was all in, and that the hard times would pass.  I kept telling myself that once he found a job, then things would be like they were in the beginning of the relationship, before he spent all day on the couch or walking around the neighborhood.  I kept hoping that maybe he would clean up his dishes one day so that I didn’t have to spend the first 30 minutes I was home cleaning in order to make dinner for us.  And somewhere in the middle, I stopped lying to myself and came to terms with the fact that I’d fallen for a very lazy man who didn’t understand how to follow through with anything that he said he’d do.  This is where I probably should have said something to him instead of just staying quiet and trying to get through the days.  I was still deluding myself that everything would get better once he found a job.

Then, he found a job.  He had insisted that waiting tables was the only job that he wanted to do and I respected that, but then he started to stay out all night.  I didn’t like it.  I didn’t like waking up with no text, no voice mail, no idea where he was.  It hurt.  I said something, but it was already too late.  He changed restaurants and started working somewhere farther away, and then he just didn’t come home for weeks.  He said that he just couldn’t deal with the “commute”.  I had no say in the matter and I guess I really just didn’t matter in the equation.

This went on for longer than I should have let it and finally, after he again told me he was coming home and never showed, I spent the entire morning calling his phone every 30 minutes until he finally responded.  He was annoyed at me because I was calling him while he was at work, though he’d never bothered to tell me a schedule or any information other than vague descriptions of the people and place he was staying.  He texted me that he felt, “this just isn’t working” and I didn’t even get the satisfaction of telling him to his face that our relationship was over as I’d been planning to do before he forgot to come home, yet again.

It was done. He was gone.  I felt like an asshole for being conned into supporting him for over a year when it had become very clear to me that had he not been unemployed, the relationship would have ended long before that point.

I’m not a saint, nor am I blameless.  I work long hours.  I have a very stressful job.  I am not great at talking about it when I’m truly hurting.  Hell, I’m the most open on a blog where anonymous strangers are the only people who will read this and even then it’ll reach no more than 20 people!  I really don’t see any risk to my heart by bearing my soul to the void.

And all of this does me no good in the present.  I have friends that love me, my family loves me, most of them just can’t spend any time with me.  I’m mourning the loss of something I could never have- a partner in life who accepts me as I am and cares enough to fight for me.  I didn’t think that I was looking for perfection, but apparently I’ve been hoping to find a fictitious being that doesn’t exist.

It’s just a stark reminder that I am not a person who other people choose to be around.  A reminder that I am meant to be alone and I should just get on with doing that.


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