Warning: This is going to be a disjointed, stream of consciousness post filled with everything from self pity to hate, to, well, whatever. I’m venting here, so you will probably want to skip it.
Unless she does something particularly remarkable, this will be the last mention of B on this blog.
It didn’t take her long to both unfriend and block me on the book of faces. I don’t know if she really hates me that much, or if she’s trying to hide the fact that she went directly back to her “ex”. Yes, after all the time, energy, effort, and money that I invested in helping her escape him and his control, which is what she said that she needed and wanted, she dumped me and moved right back in. I guess she lied about wanting to get away from him. In pictures posted by her former ex, who did not block me, she was sucking face with him in public on Valentines Day. And by logging out of my account and then going to her page, I was able to see that said photo is now her header picture also.
She was out. Away from the guy who cussed her and reminded her daily how much of a loser he thought she was. While allowing her to completely support him. The guy who forbade her to go out with her friends, and rode her about it for months if she dared defy him. The guy who pawned everything decent that she or her kids ever got, to get money for more pills. I could go on and on, but you get the idea.
I’m beginning to think that she needs the drama to be happy. I did everything I could to make her happy. I never questioned where she went, or with whom. I tried to make sure she and her fuck trophies had everything that they needed and much of what they wanted. I spent as much time as I could with her, often sacrificing sleep in the process. I complimented her regularly, and meant it. She seemed to appreciate it at first, but as time went on, she found something about nearly everything I would say to get upset about. All while I was walking on eggshells, trying to filter everything that I said and did, trying not to say anything that might upset her, in order to help her heal from the ex’s abuse.
I loved her and treated her with the utmost respect and adoration. I didn’t try to control her or her life. I have no regrets for anything that I said or did. Sure, there are little things that perhaps I could have said or done differently that would have been better, but I am convinced that I did no wrong. I didn’t create drama, so she had to. Case in point – our goodbye conversation:
Me: I love you and I hope you find happiness in life. Take care of those little girls. Goodbye.
B: Don’t treat them like they are a business arrangement.
Please tell me what I missed. This could not have been a reference to anything earlier in the conversation, as this was my first and only reference to the kids. What did I say that implied anything about a business arrangement in reference to them? Or about anything else? Her state of mind relative to the recent breakup could have been blamed for this interaction, were it not the last in a long line of her taking my words to mean something beyond anything I could have imagined, and then taking offense to them. And having the gall to tell me that I knew exactly what I was saying and that I pushed her to react the way that she did. As if I sat around all day trying to think of how I could piss her off, but in a way that I could claim innocence.
I know, I should just write it off, drop it, and walk away. I know that the actions of some people are unexplainable and impossible to understand. But I need to understand that which cannot be understood.
I know I’m no prize. But how can anyone prefer an abusive relationship to one with someone who gives his heart and soul, not to mention his life savings, to try to make the woman he loves happy? And how can she seem so happy and receptive one minute, and then turn it off like a switch? Deny him a final conversation because she “doesn’t want to see his face”, but have no problem going on a $1,000 shopping spree with his credit card after the decision had been made to end it. And make no offer to return the ring, or any of his stuff, while making sure to get everything of hers from his house. If you don’t like me, or can’t live with me, just leave. But to go back to that kind of a situation just makes no sense whatsoever to my feeble little mind.
When it was good, it was so very good. Sure, there were lots of negatives. The kids, considering that I have never had any desire to be a father. Her lack of skills (or motivation, not sure which) in the housekeeping department. Her lack of respect for the value of things. Her general youth and immaturity. Her aversion to guns. The list goes on and on. But she was worth it all, and more. Had I been able to keep things the way they were in the beginning, I would have happily accepted every one of the negatives, and sold my soul. And I would have gotten the better deal. It’s going to take a while to get past those memories, and the hurt that comes with knowing that, even if it was real at the time, it is gone forever.
I hope the day comes that she deeply regrets her decision. And I pray it is ten times more painful for her than what I’m going through right now. The fucking bitch deserves it.