Let's break up together

April 6th 2024

Last night I missed him more than I could have imagined. I missed his voice and his comfort.

Today was surprisingly difficult. And I keep asking myself wasn't he perfect?

Not in the way that he had no faults, but perfect enough for me. to meet all of my neurotic and anxious needs. 

All the times I asked him if he loved me or if he was mad at me, why, why, couldn't he just tell me the truth? I know it sounds like I'm blaming him but I'm not; I know it was my fault. But, if he had come to me sincerely, with vulnerability and emotion in his voice and with 100% honesty I would have done everything conceivable to make him happy. To rebuild our relationship. I take a two-week break to get my head on straight, to work things out with a therapist and to make our relationship a safe place for him to exist. 

I would have asked for help sooner.

I think I'm always gonna be a little bit sad for a while. 

I also know that I acted the way I did because that's how I was raised, that's what I saw in my parents. It's hardwired in me, absorbed behaviour in my most formative years.

And to say I wish I could go back and change what I said and how I acted would mean fundamentally changing who I was them.

Which seems impossible.

Almost a betrayal to myself.

I want to tackle my insecurity, I want to be less focused on myself and accept the love that other people are able to give.

I'm still grieving the future I had envisioned, the one that he built up in my mind. I'm grieving the weeks in which I'd be doing what I've wanted to do with him.

He'd meet me in China, we'd fly to Sanya together, something I've wanted to do for over a year with him. Go to the beach, ride the scooters together, and go on little adventures.

It feels like I've been cheated out of all of that

I paid my do's. I spent weeks with his family, appeasing them and their small-minded thinking, they're microaggressions and homophobic comments, making small talk whilst being continuously isolated. I spent weeks alone with them. 

I feel as if my patience for our relationship had been taken for granted. 

In all the time we had been together I felt as if he validated my feelings just once. 

It was after we had spent just over a week with his mum's side of the family, he had been drinking and he had finally, finally been able to communicate how grateful he was for spending all this shitty time with him and his family.

How lonely I must have felt and excluded, how grateful he was that whenever he was the new guy around I had always made the continuous and active effort to include him in conversations. Though he never gave me the courtesy of doing the same. 

I'd often told him how important those conversations meant to me, that they made me feel so seen, like all this sadness and being is worth something. But he just said he couldn't do it, talking about his emotions was too difficult, he had to be at least tipsy to do it. 

The coward. 

That should've been the final blow for me to walk away. Only now can I see that.