Farewell, My Love
I did it. Today I said goodbye.
With a lot of love and kindness, along with the frank reasons behind it, I told my love farewell. Of course, he left me weeks ago, for the second time in two months. As you read in my last post, I was truly hoping for a 3rd chance, but it’s clearly not going to happen.
Last week, I apologized to him. Yep. That’s right. I sent him an apology email for trying to help him with his medical struggles and mental health. I said that I understood that sometimes fantasy was the only thing that got him through another day of excruciating pain. I said that I understood how so much pain must make it difficult to speak let alone to anything else, like participate in a relationship. I told him it was okay to dream about a future together.
(Note: we’re emailing and texting because I’m still in Europe and he’s refused to talk with me on the phone or video chat for weeks now. We’ve been in limited, but daily contact ever since he apologized for breaking our commitment 2+ weeks ago)
He responded with gratitude for my understanding and kindness. Then he asked me if it’s just okay to fantasize or could a future together be a reality.
I really shouldn’t have answered that question, just like he ignores at least half of the questions I ask….
But I did.
I said it was absolutely okay to fantasize, and as far as it being a reality, the best we could do was to work every day toward making it a reality, dealing with the things as they come. This in the middle of another very loving email full of support and understanding.
That answer upset him. He said he “felt rejected,” like he was “second best,” and that he was “a hostage.” I had no idea what he was talking about. I tried to call him to clarify/explain/???, but he wouldn’t answer the phone. I texted him and he got very cross with me and told me to give him space.
For the past week I’ve been reading articles on loving someone with Borderline Personality Disorder, how to deal with them day to day and not take their erratic emotions personally, etc.
For days after, I dealt with more push-pull behavior. From him barely speaking to me one day to sending nude photos the next. From idealizing me again and telling his family how much he loves me to him shutting down a few hours later because I asked him something as innocuous as “Is your life back to normal?” (after the move) and “Are you all settled in?” Apparently these questions really upset him because he doesn’t want to talk about his life because it’s “never normal.”
Had he said that as soon as I texted, that would’ve been fine. I would’ve empathized, apologized, and gone to another subject, but instead he goes silent for 30 minutes. When I ask “Did I lose you?” over Google Hangouts, he says, “I have to go to sleep now.”
So I asked if my question upset him (‘yes’) and to please explain why because I was only making polite conversation, etc. etc. etc. . . but after everything else, I finally accepted reality today.
I told him to sleep well, then I blocked him from Hangouts.
For two weeks I’ve been revising a “farewell” email, never quite being able to send it because I couldn’t let go of hope. I couldn’t let go of him.
Today I sent it, and it’s breaking my heart because he will be in so much pain when he reads it. I regret having to send it and give up the hope of some chance. Of course, hope is a dangerous drug. I’ve learned that the hard way. I’ve let hope die before, but it’s so temping, so beautiful that I let hope live in my heart once more.
Now I’m paying for it.
The pain for me comes and goes; there will be a lot more of it in days and weeks to come. I know the drill of loss and grief. I’ve survived worse. Maybe I’ll find once again that it’s more sadness and confusion than pain.
Still I remind myself that I didn’t leave him. I didn’t break our commitment. I didn’t shut down. I didn’t abandon him. …. he did those things.
I’m just finally accepting it.
Please be kind if you comment. It’s difficult to break that betrayal bond, as we all know. Once you already have PTSD and a history of surviving emotional abuse, sometimes you still can’t see it when everyone else can. The worst is when you can see it, but you are powerless to do anything about it.
Lie to me once, you’re gone.
Deceive me once, you’re gone.
Betray my trust once, you’re gone.
Tell me I’m too intense or too needy or too emotional, you’re gone.
If you play Jekyll & Hyde games or are afraid of commitment or intimacy, you’re gone.
If you’re aloof, inconsistent, uninvested, unengaged, unavailable in any way, keep moving.
I have neither the time nor the patience for you. No second chances. Not anymore.
I’m not playing this bullshit game any more.
I’ve gotten really good at cutting people out of my life over the past few years, even people who meant the world to me. When they consistently bring me more tears than smiles, they’re gone. When they even breathe like a misogynist, they’re gone. When they aren’t true to their word, they’re gone. If they objectify me, they’re gone.
I’ve learned to enjoy my own company. Even though the loneliness sometimes feels as if it will consume me, I would rather be lonely alone than lonely in another relationship.
I would rather no one call at all than to wait around for an uninvested man to recognize my worth.
Respect me, or keep walking.
Cherish me, or keep walking.
Engage fully with me, or keep walking.
Embrace everything I am, or keep walking.
He lied to me. He deceived me. He betrayed my trust. He was aloof, inconsistent, and unengaged. He definitely did the Jekyll/Hyde bullshit quite well, and quite often, too.
Over the past three months, he’s put me through the idealize – devalue – discard cycle 5 complete times. Nothing was going to change. It would only hurt me more and more, and it seemed to only be hurting him, too. In fact, at this point, the most loving thing I can do for him is to let him go, especially if he feels like “a hostage” of my love.
I certainly felt like a hostage.
Today, I set myself free.