April 22nd, 2018 by ffsokaythen

I knew him for years, but this time was different. The weekend was wonderful, so much sex and happiness. He started calling me baby, darling, and by the end, “my love.” I told him later I had feelings for him, and he said he had problems maintaining relationships. I told him there was always going to be ups and downs, but not to imagine everything would be terrible before it even started. He swept me off my feet. No one has ever spoken to me so lovingly or made me feel so good. We went on a two weeks trip abroad, got tattoos together, and even tho I was depressed and sometimes not using my best judgement, he loved me so much. One day, we got into the stupidest fight and I walked out because he was calling me stupid. I tried to fix it later, but he said he’d had enough. A week or so later, he said we were fine, and I traveled to him (long distance). Several days in, he picked a fight with me. The next morning he told me my anxiety made him mad. He comforted me and made me feel safe, then a few hours later, dumped me at the airport in the cruelest possible way.

This wasn’t the person I knew.

He said he couldn’t deal with my anxiety and depression. I tried to get him back for a month. We saw each other once for a few hours and he was clearly so happy to see me. We had sex, he brought out things we’d gotten together, he told me all the things that made him miss me. But, he didn’t want to get back together. A few weeks later, I moved there for a job. He was leaving on a trip the day I showed up, so I came to take him to the airport. He was again so happy to see me. We had sex, everything was great, and we loved each other. Every day for the weeks he was gone, I got loving texts. I finally told him I couldn’t stand the idea that this wasn’t real, and he comforted me in ways that didn’t address the problem, so I went along with it. My job had been nonsense, so he offered me a place to stay as I prepared for an uncoming trip. I had made a 180 on my mental health and had been happy for weeks.

We ran into an old friend in the store and he called me his friend, then his girlfriend. We lived like a couple. We were both so happy the first few weeks, but then he started drinking and smoking so much weed. He wouldn’t do anything with me. He got me to skip something I wanted to do to go to some family thing, where he introduced me to all his old friends and family as his girlfriend. Went to his kid’s birthday. Why? “Because you’re my girlfriend.” Tried to set me up with contacts in the area, calling me his girlfriend.

I wasn’t sleeping well. He was snoring so loudly and I was grumpy in the morning. He started making snide remarks that I was just a ray of sunshine, but I just wanted to be like “get a c-pap machine.” As my trip approached and he wouldn’t do anything with just me, I finally said I didn’t think he liked spending time with me. He tried to blow it off, telling me not to open a can of worms before I left. At first, he said he wanted to see how he felt at the end of my trip, then he had a death in the family, and it went from that to “I don’t know if I ever wanted to get back together with you.”

Finally, we were both back home, and he told me I hadn’t been his girlfriend for that month. I imagined it. When I asked if all the people who met me imagined it, he changed it to that he had hoped it would work out, then finally to he didn’t want to dump me and ruin my trip. He told me this was all my fault, rewrote moments we’d shared to make it seem like I have been living in a hallucination, denied doing things that I have evidence in text for, and on and on. He treats me like I’m insane. He makes fun of me now. He brings up things I said during panic attacks to laugh about them, and mocks me for ever wanting a future with him.

And that was the person I thought in all my life loved me.

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