Ding Dong, The Witch is Dead

I don’t know if witch is the right term to describe him – maybe a narcissistic abuser. And I don’t know if he is fully gone but I know that I have blocked him on everything. He knows where I live but I’m hoping he doesn’t turn up here as he has done in the past because it has got to the stage now where I think I will call the police (except I have no balls and I wouldn’t do that because I’m scared and feel sorry for him). It has got to to the point where I have told him I sold the house and I am moving back to my parents.

His drinking is out of control – he’s alienated everyone and I can’t get his claws out of me. He insists on being a dick all the fucking time. And I’ve tried my hardest to not spend time with him. I’ve been lucky because family commitments have been insane over the past 2 months so I’ve had a valid excuse.

I asked him today – why don’t you focus on your own problems rather than worrying about everyone else? You literally are not with your wife, you barely see your child and you’re drinking every day. Why are you worried about what I am doing, what my siblings are doing?

I do not retaliate to his vulgar, vicious and abusive words. I know better. But inside, I am boiling – if I turned around and told him what I really think – you’re a deadbeat dad, son and brother. You have no friends. No job. No money. You have nowhere to live now. Bumming around. And you have the audacity to criticise others? HOW FUCKING DARE YOU? Arghhhh – I hate that I have to type this out rather than say it to him but I think it’s got to the point now where I think he is so out of it – he could potentially ruin my life.

Today I feel as though a weight has been lifted. I’ve reached out to my therapist again to start sessions and I can’t wait to cry it all out.

Here We Go Again

A life update. For me to read back to myself in 2 years.

It has been 2 years since my last blog post – turns out he (S) did get married. I heard through the grapevine that he’d had a baby. I told my therapist that I was happy for him – I was sad for me though because I wanted that with him and he didn’t think I was good enough for that. But genuinely in my heart I was happy for him.

My therapist and I have been going strong now for nearly 2 years – she is probably the one who carried me through my heartbreak. She let me cry, she let me have a little bit of self pity and even when I started to get over him, she was there for me – whether that to help me navigate the relationship with the parents, the siblings and any other important relationships in my life.

My sister had babies. And I am the doting aunt. The eldest born in 2020 carried me through my heartbreak too. Looking at her makes me whole. The second who joined us in 2022 is going to be the one who breaks me though – he is a chunky monkey and definitely will be testing my fear!

My brother got married – navigating the relationship with my new SiL is interesting.

But the main reason I write today, S called me out of the blue mid last year – I had blocked his number but my phone started vibrating in the early hours of one morning and I was receiving an instagram call from him. I thought it was an accident and ignored it but it happened repeatedly. I answered because my biggest fear is that something had happened to his parents.

Turns out he wanted to tell me that he’d got married and had a baby – had to hear it from the horse’s mouth so to speak. I told him I was happy for him. We spoke for a long period of time – it felt good to hear his voice and he was sober and it made me realise that in some weird way – he was my best friend.

That chat turned into us speaking more often – I can see how this reads – I’m the worst. I should know better. Turns out that he got married because they got pregnant. Turns out that they’re not living together anymore. Turns out that it isn’t working. I made it clear that I didn’t want anything to do with him. But I’m also a fucking idiot. Who wants the best for him. So I have fallen back into the role of being his confidant and shoulder to cry on.

It’s been a year since he called and I am trying every day to get out of this situation – he mentally and emotionally drains me. I don’t hate him, but I don’t love him either.

What a fucktard I am.

Never Enough

So it’s been nearly 4 months since we have spoken. He came on Friday to collect the last of the things that had been in my house. It was the first time I had seen him since we stopped speaking. He looked really well. Handsome. Sober. We were courteous but that was it.

Done in about 20 minutes. My sister was with me.

When he left, my sister told me she’d heard that he got married. I don’t know if it is true but it broke me. I broke down in tears. I don’t know why I am so upset. I knew that he would move on. But i gave him the best part of me for three years. I supported him during his lowest moments and I wasn’t enough. I am never enough.

Therapy

I’ve started therapy. Because this last guy has broken me. Because I gave my all and it still wasn’t enough apparently to make someone love me.

He stopped drinking back in March. Stayed with me until May. I gave him all the emotional support I possibly could to aid his recovery from alcoholism and then he went back to his own place. We decided that we shouldn’t speak to each other as often (considering that in the past 3 years, there’s probably been a total of 8 weeks where we haven’t spoken or seen each other every day). Every day we don’t speak, I sit here questioning whether he has met someone new – if someone else is taking up his time.

We had a conversation of course before we decided this – I asked him if he ever had feelings for me. Apparently no. Everything that ever happened between us was a result of him being horny and me being available. All the time he spent with me was because I was there. It could have been anybody apparently – didn’t have to be me. I’m not going to lie – this hurt me pretty bad.

I couldn’t control myself and I called him after 2 weeks or so. He answers saying that he was going to call (I believe him even if it isn’t true). He asks to hang out and of course I say yes without hesitation. Us hanging out consists of me driving whilst he sits in the passenger seat and smokes. Sometimes there is conversation, but more often than not, there isn’t. I am so desperate for even the most small amount of communication that even this time spent is better than not spending time with him.

I’m trying my hardest to not call or message or stalk his online status. But thoughts of him consume me at times.

He’s called me crazy, psycho, c*nt, fucked up. Lol. The names I have been called.

One of his friend’s messaged me on Instagram. I’d met the guy before a few times. We don’t follow each other. I’m not sure why I replied but our conversation was inane. Him asking me how I was, what I’d been up to and me reciprocating. He mentioned that we should have a “drink up” soon and I kept it very nonchalant and dismissive – because I know the guy doesn’t like me getting having interactions with is friends. He’s accused me of “begging it” before when all I have been is polite.

I told the guy – because I didn’t want this to come back and bite me in my arse. I didn’t want to have him think that it was me that reached out – that I was trying to get to him through his friends. And well that didn’t work out too great. He accused me of sucking up to his friends. told me to stay away from them because I am fucked up. Told me I’m crazy and that he’s felt sorry for me which is why he maintained contact. I’m not sure if he and I were reading the same conversation (because I sent him the screen shots) because I didn’t instigate any of it.

I read all of this and when I say it out loud, it sounds absolutely crazy. Like why the fuck am I subjecting myself to this? Maybe I am crazy. I don’t know. I have so many self doubts. Maybe I deserve all this. Did I do something that bad to him that he chooses to hurt me like this? Am I not worthy of even a tiny bit of compassion?

I’ve started therapy because I am going through a break up and whilst it may not have felt like a relationship to him, it did to me.

A Shitshow

Wow, it has been a very long time. Is it because I hated writing? No. Is it because I’m lazy? No. Is it because my life turned around and I flourished? Also No.

I can’t explain why I haven’t written. I haven’t felt the urge. I haven’t felt the need to pour my heart out onto a page. Not because I haven’t been – I have, but these have been in the form of little notes on my phone’s app.

Life has not drastically improved. I continue to attract worthless men – a reflection of how I feel about myself. The last one – being The Guy. I don’t know what I was thinking. I thought he could love me – but as time as shown – how can someone give me the love I so desperately crave when I can’t give it to myself.

Social media has been instrumental in so many things but for the most allowing me to define my personality type. Allowing me to explore attachment styles. Helping me determine that my childhood has had more of a profound effect on me than I ever realised. Growing up with an alcoholic parent and how that has moulded me. It’s given me the resources to get the help that I think that I need.

Love. Heartbreak. Repeat.

The Guy and me are done. It was easier than I thought it would be. Helped by the fact The Boy was in the picture. Has been since that eventful night when I met him back in May.

The Guy – An Update: Following your civil ceremony, I didn’t see you. I haven’t seen you. We speak on the phone – infrequently – The Boy taking up all my time. You ask to see me and I keep making excuses. When we do talk, you mention that you miss me but I can’t say I feel the same. I know the date for the Hindu ceremony is set. And I am happy for you. Between May and now, we have seen each other on a night out – except I am with The Boy – that is the one brief time.

You call one evening – drunk(!). And you tell me that I don’t have time for you any more. And that you’ve slept with someone else. And it doesn’t hurt me. I am not upset but disappointed. I can’t criticize because that will make me a hypocrite. But I don’t know if you tell me to make me feel some kind of way!

It is scary how easy it was for me to stop contact with you – if you read any of my previous posts, I thought I was in Love! We arrange to meet up – I wanted to wish you well. But then you text me in the day to tell me you can’t. Later that day, I have a car accident. Nothing major – I am safe and cosmetic damage to the car. You call me around midnight to tell me you went to dinner with the girl you slept with. And that is it for me. I know you didn’t know I had an accident but the fact that you blew me off for someone who is random (as far as I am concerned) is enough for me to cut all ties. You tell me that I wouldn’t have seen you – we had made plans so why wouldn’t I have? I tell you our friendship is over. I had tried to call you but you didn’t answer. I make it clear that we can never be friends because I can never call you in a time of need because I know that you might not be able to answer. You won’t be able to explain to whomever you’re with who I am. And what kinda friendship is that?

And with that I am done. I unfollow you on all social media. I don’t answer your calls. I don’t reply to messages. And you soon get the hint. I see pictures on Instagram from the Hindu ceremony and you look happy. She looks happy. And whilst I know that morally what I did wasn’t correct, I don’t regret it.

The Boy – An Intro: We meet on a night out. We share a taxi home and in my drunken state I give you my number. You call me as soon as the taxi drops me off outside my front door. We are on the phone until I think I pass out (I think – my phone battery dead when I check it in the morning!). You’re younger than me. Recently separated and with alcohol dependency issues. I should have run a fucking marathon away from you! But there is something about you that keeps me around. You make me smile. Friends we say. But I don’t understand how people can be just friends with someone they talk to morning, noon and night. Clearly I am going to develop feelings for you. And slowly our “friendship” evolves. You end up in hospital about a month into our friendship – and I am there for the duration – 4 days and 4 nights by your side – only going to your parent’s house to have a shower. You have met my family. My siblings, my parents and some of my closest friends. Introducing you as my friend. I am honest with you about everything – The Guy, Baba, S – the exes of my past. You tell me that you can’t commit to me (yet) and that we take things as they come. I am OK with this. But inevitably I am not seeing anyone else, I don’t want anyone else and it is clear that I am committed to you. But I accept the label of…. well whatever “this” is. But I make it clear that I can’t continue past December. I can’t wait for something that might never come.

But I am silly – yesterday I looked through your phone. I have trust issues. I am needy and in basic words, I am downright crazy – my past relationships have made me feel a type of way that I shouldn’t. I had some doubts about you and a friend of yours. You always confirmed that nothing had happened. But there are videos and pictures of her that suggest otherwise.

I tell you that I have seen them and you carry on denying it. But I have seen them. And you begin to make me doubt myself. I tell you that I am done. You tell me you love me. That you have fallen in love with me. But I don’t believe you. Besides, even if I did – I can’t be with someone who lies. I have been in that position before and it broke me.

I didn’t realise that I would be this upset. Yesterday when I saw your phone I was just relieved that I hadn’t been imagining things. But today I haven’t stopped crying. I thought it might be different. But it is the same cycle. Love. Heartbreak. Repeat.

 

The Date is Set

July 15th.

I thought I would be more upset than I am. I have written so many memos to myself of how I am/have been feeling at any given time during this “relationship”. And yet I have known now for a week and I still haven’t written anything.

I am genuinely happy for you. Well not happy that you are committing to something that you say don’t really want. But happy that you are doing the right thing (in some way I guess) by her, by your family and by your loved ones.

I have told you previously that as soon as you get married, I would leave. You told me right at the beginning that this would stop but you have changed the narrative. But I can’t be that person. At the same time, I know you are my best friend. I can’t imagine not telling you my inane nonsense. Or listening to your drunken ramblings.

I would like to believe that we are completely honest with each other and I think that is why this has gone so well. Because I have nothing to hide from you.

We meet on a night out – we knew we were going but you with your friends and I with mine. We share a drink at the bar and a cheeky kiss as I pass you on my way to the dancefloor. But I meet a guy (I’m drunk and my inhibitions are lapse to say the least!). I give him my number and we have been speaking for the last 2 weeks. Every day. I tell you – partly because I want you to know but mainly because I want to make you jealous (petty games I know). I don’t think it works. Your voice doesn’t waver, you don’t really pay no mind. And I am slightly gutted. But he is nice. He makes me laugh to the point where I am wheezing! And I think he could be good for me.

I see you yesterday and we share a drink – you considerably more than me and I can see you are tipsy. You ask me about the other guy. You tell me that you are jealous that he is getting so much of my time – that he gets to enjoy my company. I ask if you want me to keep talking to you about him – about how things progress with him and you say yes. I don’t understand. Glutton for punishment? Ego trip? I don’t know.

All I know if I enjoy your company. We get on. And we’re friends. Maybe it going to be me that will pull the plug. Who the hell knows?!

5 months and counting

I don’t know what I am doing really. I have been consistently writing memos to myself. I read them back to myself – and out of 30 – 2 are maybe “sad” – the others all the happy moments.

The guy and me did this thing in the beginning – “Are you happy?” we would ask each other – giving us the opportunity to be honest with each other. And we used to ask each other this pretty much every week. And my answer has always been yes – his too! Cue about 4 weeks ago, he raised the point that we hadn’t asked each other in a while (maybe a month) and I knew why – because I was genuinely happy – it never crossed my mind that I should ask. I told him as such and I told him that he hadn’t asked either and he said the same. We have been genuinely happy – the situation is so shitty. But when we spend time together, when we talk to each other – we are happy.

He has become more familiar now – conversations are littered with “baby” and that in itself is enough to melt my heart – I am trying to not get attached. I mean, I am attached but I know what the outcome is.

I started writing this in February – and I never got around to publishing it. It is now almost mid March and nothing has really changed.

Our conversations are very candid. We are honest with each other and that is a breath of fresh air to me.

I wish things could be so different.

The Same Mistake

Why do I keep making the same mistake or taking the same decisions and expecting different results?

I am my own worst enemy. Remember the guy (because I can hardly call him the boy!)? He asked to see me shortly after the drama that ensued when she told her father about him. We went from talking every day for at least 12 hours of the day – to 30 mins of rushed catch up. Of course that was hard – but I told myself, you can do this. He wasn’t mine to begin with. I didn’t want to agree but of course my heart overruled my head. He got in my car and sat down in the passenger seat. I curled up cross legged in the driver seat facing him. It took all of my will power to not reach out and caress his face, touch his hand or have some form of physical contact. He looked tired.I told him as such “You look shit!”. He laughed – “I knew you’d be honest with me. How are you?”.

Oh the numerous ways that I could answer that. Was it ironic that I am so honest with him and in that moment I couldn’t be? I deflected and asked him “Don’t worry about me – how are you doing?” He took my hand up to his cheek – “I missed you. I didn’t know this was going to happen so quickly”

“But we knew it was going to happen and at least it has now – better for you.”

I leaned over to get my handbag from the back seat and he kissed me – it was unexpected. There was something so different about it. A sense of urgency. I should have pulled away – but heart on sleeve wearer – I know where my emotions lie and I couldn’t pull away. I didn’t know if this was my last time feeling his touch. So I let him. I let him kiss me, and when he hugged me tight – I held on just as hard.

That was nearly 7 weeks ago. And since then I haven’t given him up. We are so similar in so many ways – and we have so much in common – it is uncanny! Our outlook on life, our music tastes, our sense of humour – just – it all seems to click.

We have had some intense conversations – Does he wish he’d met me before her? A question I shouldn’t ask but I do – because I am tipsy and loved up and my emotions are not in check. “Yes” and so I berate him for telling me what I want to hear.

Our schedules mean we don’t see each other for a week. And the following I am away – in a country where the time zone is not convenient. When he calls, our conversation is cut short most often than not as I am on holiday with family. He texts me telling he can’t wait until I am back – missing out conversations. In all honesty, I agree with him – our conversations are the best – they are filled with so much randomness and rubbish. Silences are not common and if they are they are certainly not uncomfortable.

I see him the day I return home. And as we are there in each other’s company – he tells me something has changed. I ask him what? But he doesn’t elaborate. I can tell he missed me. And I can see in the way he looks at me (but I am crap at reading people – S and Baba clearly are testament to that!) that he cares for me. We have an amazing time together. I profess my love for him and he does the same. Later on, I realise the change he implied – it wasn’t lust any more. I don’t think it ever had been just lust. But now we’re fucked. Because he missed me more than he should have done. He missed my conversation. He missed me. And it works both ways. I  missed him. I missed his conversation – but I have been missing his conversation since the drama unfolded. I have got used to it. But I never told him so.

Why are we like this? Because I know she has left her family for him. So we’re both shits basically.

It has become so bad, that I writing memos to myself. Because I don’t want to blog about it yet but I want to document how I am feeling. I want to remember everything. How I feel at this particular moment in time.

We said we would stop. I told him it would have to be him that pulls the plug – but the other day he changed the narrative – what if he doesn’t? And I said I don’t know.

My Purpose

I have kind of been flitting in and out of online dating – it’s a means to an end but it is laborious and time consuming and I don’t put in the effort I should to reap the rewards that I want.

I recently started speaking to a guy – same background as me. A colourful past though – not someone who I would consider introducing to my parents – but you know bad things happen to good people – we cannot let our pasts define us.

The conversation flowed so easily – I didn’t think about his past at all – I don’t know why. We spoke so often and it seemed inevitable for us to meet. The evening before we were due to meet, he called me and we were chatting our inane nonsense before he told me had something to tell me. He told me that there was someone else as well. And he’d met her before me. So I told him , I would make things easy – I deleted everything and told him that we wouldn’t meet. I was sensible. And that my friends is where all sensibility stopped.

He called me later that night “as friends” – we spoke for over 4 hours. Just stupid things and we agreed that we would have a drink. Nothing had been set in stone with the other girl. So a harmless drink. But a harmless drink turned into dinner which ended up with me kissing him.

We have since seen other a few times, and each time we have had fun. We speak and message constantly. I was slightly optimistic (perhaps that’s where I went wrong). The parameters of what we were doing had not been defined. I think I was happy with that. We were just two people who enjoyed each other’s company.

And then yesterday happened. The other girl told her father that he was the one. It was inevitable. I kind of knew that this was the end goal and there would be nothing between us.

He called me this morning to explain the situation. She has basically sacrificed everything for him and I know this.

I told him , I had served Fate’s/God’s purpose for me in his life. I was there to distract him. And that there was nothing more that I could give. He disagreed. But I have made it clear, that I can’t be in his life. It wouldn’t be fair on anybody.

But it left me wondering – is my purpose to be a stopping gap for these men.