There are a few of you, but you all are the same. I have no idea what you’ve been up to ever since we spilt up. I’ve never been the kind of person who could ever be friends with someone I loved, and who broke my heart. I can tell that bothers you, considering you message me every year on my birthday, to wish me a happy one, and you’ve always tried to casually chat about what’s going on with me. I never respond. I see your messages, and I don’t ever thank you for the “consideration” on my birthday. Seven years, and the one time I responded to your desire to catch up with me, was to ask you to stop.
See, that was the problem with you and me. My relationships mean something, that’s why I don’t have many. I’m not the person that can have a dozen friends to choose from. I don’t think it’s weird if people do, but I exert so much energy and passion into the relationships I do have. I choose them wisely.
You never did. You looked at a new person in the room, and you did anything to form a small bond with that person, and then would call them your best friend. You had a way of making each new person feel like they were a missing link in your life. I guess that’s why I fell for you, because I believed it was true. I guess it kind of was, but not in the way I thought.
You had no original peices. You created yourself out of the opinions of what every person thought of you. I was a missing link, but so is any person you meet. That’s what happens when you have no baseline of who you are or want to be.
The sad part is how you used everyone who cared about you. I remember trying to gift you my time, my comfort, and love, but when you knew you had it, that’s when you were done. You were too busy making new connections to be bothered with mine. I went home shattered, and you went to bed with a stranger.
I believed you were the person you made everyone believe you were. I usually see past these things. But you finally showed me who you really were that night. There is no passion, or depth to you. It makes sense now that you could cheat. It makes sense that you could physically abuse me. People who actually feel passionately can’t and don’t do that to the people they say they’re passionate about. I would say that I believe you want to feel passionately, but I don’t.
You’ve never shown any desire to do more than use those who love you. When you’re expected to act out the words that roll off your tongue, it bothers you, because you can’t. You always said “I love you”, because you love the sound of your own voice. It never held any substance.
It took a few years of self blaming, what ifs, and I should haves, to realize I wasn’t the problem. I finally saw you for you are. I wanted more from you. More affection. More affirmations. More faithfulness. More love. I want those things because I gave them freely. You always acted like I wanted something utterly ridiculous. Your reactions alternated between eye rolls, yelling, calling me your ex’s name, and physical assault.
It’s not abnormal to want adoration from someone who claims it. It’s not abnormal to want faithfulness from someone who says they love you. It’s not abnormal to want a normal and healthy dialogue with the person who says they want to grow old with you. You played me like a fiddle. You claimed you wanted me, my partnership, a life and family together. But when it came down to showing up for the part, you bailed, every time. You made me think I expected too much.
You broke more than my heart. You broke me. I still have days of grief for who I was before you got your hands on me. I still have days where I question what normal is, and whether I am or not. I still tiptoe around conflict like my life depends on it. It sounds like you won, doesn’t it?
I have to thank you.
I loved someone as terrible as you. Can you imagine how much more I love my husband? He puts our relationship first. He’s given up habits for me. He’s never made me feel like my wants and needs were unreasonable. He’s the only man who has exercised healthy conflict resolution. He’s truthful, respectful, kind, and loving. I never had to beg or even ask him to be this way.
Thank you for being honest with your actions. Thank you for putting yourself first. Thank you for trying to crush every ounce of my individuality, dreams, and ambitions. Thank you for making it hard. Now that I know exactly what it’s like to be with someone like you, I can do a better job of protecting my daughter from guys like you. I can tell her what is normal and what isn’t. But best of all I can show her what normal is through my marriage to her amazing father.
So while you continue to act like we were no big deal, like we can still talk, and wish each other happy birthday, I’ll be here, enjoying my life, and my family. You will never get a reply. How does it feel to get the same cold shoulder you gave me all those years?