- 8 years ago
I’m writing this as a way of helping myself to begin moving forward, and maybe to help others out there. My ex-FI and I became engaged this past Christmas after five years of being together. The five years were not great, and I honestly should have left almost two years ago when the way he treated me started to become worse and worse. Then he brought up marriage, and I stupidly thought that would change everything. After a year of waiting (sorry, bees, never joined the waiting list) he finally asked, I said yes, and thought for sure things would get better. Everything got worse, so much worse. So, I’m here to simply let some of this out…..
Our relationship was never one of total happiness. We had major fights very early on, but generally resolved things quickly and effectively. Shortly after we met (eight months or so) we moved in together. This was not a light decision as we both are older (I’m mid-30s and he’s early 40s) and had both been through our fair share of break-ups. We were determined that our relationship could work and we simply needed some time to learn to live together. Weeks turned into months turned into years. The fighting became so much worse, and so much more abusive. My friends stopped answering my phone calls as they had all told me millions of times to leave. The loneliness I felt continued to grow, and my need for some kind of validation from him continued to grow. Thus, when he asked me to marry him I was over the moon. I thought he finally valued me and cared for me. I immediately began planning a wedding, and dismissed my friends and their hesitations.
Then the black eyes came in late January one month after the proposal. He apologized. I accepted, and thought we can work through this….I was afterall about to marry him. February resulted in yet another black eye, and visits from the police. Again, I accepted his apologies and decided to work harder at making this relationship work. March wasn’t much better, but he was busy at work and I was busy planning for our Septemeber wedding.
Then last week happened. He was on a short, two-day business trip. I was so excited to pick him up from the airport. Cleaned the house, had dinner ready for him, and wore his favorite outfit. Logged on to pay a couple of quick bills, and my heart sank. I saw the text messages between him and another woman. He had set up on our cell phone account to be able to see all of my texts and his for the last few months. There they were in plain black and white. Texts that he been sending while I had been trying to call him the night before to say good night. My calls and texts went unanswered.
I picked him up from the airport, and asked him what had happened the night before. Why hadn’t he answered my calls? “Oh, I went back to the hotel and crashed out”. Really? “Yes, really, why is something wrong?” Yes, if you were asleep, please explain these texts to this woman.
This became my fault. As he put it: “This would have all just disappeared if you didn’t feel the need to manipulate me”.
I don’t know why it has taken me so long to leave him. I don’t know why I covered for him, and made up stories to hide the bruises and black eyes. I don’t know why I needed him to give me value.
I moved out yesterday, and writing this today is part of my new beginning.