Leaving the Love of My Life

Anonymous true stories of young women and men who have gone through and gotten through it.

At fifteen, I met who I thought was the love of my life. 12 years later and I can counter all the adults in my life who suggested it was mere child’s play. I still do think that’s what he was for me, my love. But he took me there, and back and there again. If I were writing this from the 12 years ago me, or even the 5 years ago me, I’d tell you he was the only guy I could imagine myself with. I’d literally die for him. This is me being super honest. I loved every good and bad thing about him, I needed him. I looked for him to find who I was and I wanted to be everything he wanted in a girl. But, as many young guys do… he cheated. Over and over again, and yes I stayed time and time again. Chance after chance and lie after lie, him being sorry or not sorry; I made the excuses and had every reason to stay and every sign to ignore.  Not to get into the gritty details of what occurred in this relationship but everything happened to us. He had children while we were together, I caught him in bed with women and more than normal women would contact me about him. But I stayed because when things were good, they were so good, bliss.

We got pregnant. The most perfect baby I thought…. I think or thought at the time that he wanted the baby just as much as I did. We were in a good space then. The sex, amazing and constantly. Literally anywhere. We couldn’t keep our hands off of one another. He was available emotionally and consistent with being who I knew he could always be in this time.  He was also going through some life changes that brought us closer together and I thought this was finally the break through, we were finally in the space I knew we could be in. He always knew how to make me fall in love again. Fast forward, I’m six months pregnant, we’re living together, we’re happy right? Wrong, something hit me. This was not what I wanted. Not with him at least. But it was too late, I couldn’t back out. We were in our couch-less living room that was filled with things that we’d eventually have to find the place for. He randomly goes, “Do you feel stuck?” Of course I said no. But two things crossed my mind. Why the fuck was he asking me this now at SIX months pregnant, and the man who I thought I could love endlessly forever was gradually slipping and I wasn’t infatuated with him the way I always remembered. It got to a point where I would cringe if he rubbed my belly.

In the beginning I blamed my feelings on the pregnancy and I wouldn’t dare express what I was going through to anyone, but as time went on the feelings were constant. I wanted out. I guess some things kick in for some of us when it’s time to take care of another human. I couldn’t let my baby see me through the unhappy me. I wanted to be myself, which I had never been with him. I couldn’t be my funny, flirty, smart, outgoing self, or maybe I could but I didn’t feel there was space for it and that’s all the reason why I should have left a long time ago, I know. We grew up together and outgrew each other. We were only kids when we met, graduating high school, then college. We were in the beginning of our careers and at the end of us.

We lived in a gorgeous apartment that I used to dream of living in, and yet it still was not enough, I wasn’t happy, and I would start to picture my life without him. I’d always picture myself living somewhere else with the baby. Just me and the baby. Decorating our new home, living our lives separate.

After the baby was born he left me in the hospital for what felt like hours. I needed him, and I wanted him to want to be there for me, but that wasn’t important to him; I don’t think he fully grasped the new life ahead of us. I was a new mom, for me life was changing at lightning speed. It was the worst feeling, when it should’ve been the best day of my life. We went home with our new baby, and I so badly wish I had a few more days there with the nurses. We weren’t going home as a happy family of three and I wasn’t ready for what was to come.

He had stop speaking to me, loving me, caring for me. So it made it all the way easier for my mind to wander. I cried too much and I was never happy. I’d be alone for most of the time with the baby walking around the neighborhood daydreaming. I sat outside of our building one day with the baby in the stroller, sometime in July, and I remember an elderly man sitting next to me and asking me how I was doing, with the baby and all. I couldn’t fake it to him. Well I did fake it I told him it was okay, but the pause before the answer I knew he saw right through me and that always sits with me. Like that man knew, and that’s why he had asked me, you know sometimes our angels send elders to get messages through to us.  I had to get out of this.

And so I did. It was the beginning of the week, I confided in a co-worker, who hadn’t known much about the details of our relationship. But I told her what I was feeling in the moment, and even with her knowing I had a newborn she suggested I leave. So that’s what I did.

That night when he finally came into our bedroom, I told him I’d be leaving that weekend with the baby. His response wasn’t shocking, to me at least. He just said okay, and so that Saturday I packed myself and the babies things and we left. There was no arguing, no crying, this wasn’t a test to see if he wanted us or me to stay.  We just left. And that’s when I knew this chapter in my life was over.

We still haven’t talked about how that week changed our lives forever. Sometimes I wonder if he thought I’d come back eventually, or did he even want me to come back. I spoke to his mom once about it and I remember her telling me that every weekend I spent away he always feared me leaving. I guess this was the weekend where I really wouldn’t be back.

Although I left, I would write him letters, if I was on a long flight or had down time. I just wanted him to know how I felt, these letters I couldn’t dare read now because I’m so far over the feeling I wouldn’t want to remember myself that way again. Even though he’d never see them it was a release. If we could’ve communicated we’d be together right?  So the letters were more for me than for him honestly. I’ve always wanted to get away maybe from him, maybe from my life already, and I’d always tell him I wanted to go to Boston like the song… where no one knows my name. I still want to do that, it’s not Boston anymore though.  I’m so at peace with being alone more now than ever. Learning who I want to be. Not who a guy wanted me to be.

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