tales of loss – episode 4 – the love of my life

Ok, I was derailed yesterday, but I am not going to put this off any longer. Onto another depressing story.

I don’t know where I managed to get the idea growing up as it certainly wasn’t instilled in me by my family but I believed there was a perfect person for everyone. A relationship that would last forever. And I was searching for it. From the age of 5, I was searching for it. Somewhere along the line I made the decision that I would wait until I was in love to have sex and thought that would only be with one person. Somehow with all of my education and openness about sex, I didn’t betray that ideal.

I was bumbling about in my 20’s all carefree and dating. It all seemed so easy. Yeah I spent most of it solo, but I didn’t really have an issue with that. I was doing what I wanted when I wanted, all the time still searching for that forever.

It was completely random that we met and terrible timing too. Neither of us were supposed to be in that room that night. He was dragged out by his brother, I was dragged out by my friends. I had a 10 day trip coming up and I wanted to get some sleep and I really wasn’t feeling up to going out dancing that Sunday night. But I went because my friends made me. He wasn’t a dancer and didn’t really want to go out but he did want to move to the city where the band was from and his brother knew the members and made him go.

I was hanging out and the crowd pushed me into him. He claimed I did it on purpose but I really didn’t see him at all. I assumed he was a dancer as most people there were and that he was from out of town, as there were a lot of out of towners in for the dance. So I talked to him. We hit it off and at one point my ex came over and talked to both of us (neither knows this connection, it was far easier not to discuss). He got my number.

I didn’t think anything would come of it. I didn’t think he would text me but he did. We made plans to go out but it was right before my trip. I cancelled last minute.

I went to Texas and had a blast. I almost moved there. I hooked up with someone during the trip. I didn’t think about him at all.

I came home and texted him. He didn’t think I would. I didn’t think I would. Yet I did. And we went out.

I got pulled away to Chicago last minute and had to cancel our second date thanks to the same friend who forced me out the night we met. I thought he would be gone. He thought I was brushing him off.

Somehow we kept going. He met my friends. I met his friends. He said he fell in love with me after the 4th date but we didn’t exchange I love you’s until later. I met his friends and family. He eventually met mine.

He practically moved in and then all but officially did. It seemed to be going great. I thought I had found my forever. Yes, we slept together.

We pissed each other off. He did stupid shit, I did stupid shit. We made up. We fought. We fell madly in love and I thought that was enough.

I compromised so much and he was so steadfast but thought he was compromising. He never made time for me and I put up with it. He would decide last minute that we were going to hang out, or at least tell me last minute. He was always gigging and never told me which gigs I was supposed to be at and which I wasn’t so I had to figure it all out. I had to figure out his work schedule since it was always changing and he would never tell me. And I never knew when he was practicing. So I gave up a lot of my plans.

Looking back I probably shouldn’t have but at the time it seemed to just happen. I was getting frustrated with the dance scene so avoiding it wasn’t a big deal. It was going to happen anyway. And then when you have to cancel last minute on your friends or bail partway through the night enough times with him coming home early and calling and wondering where you are and when you will be back (but not allowing me to do the reverse), friends stop calling. They stop asking you places because you turned into a flake.

But I had found my forever. And I was in love. And happy. Most of the time.

He really messed up a few times. We had some dumb fight once and made up but he was all upset about it without telling me. He decided to move out all of his stuff while I was at work. He texted me throughout the day like everything was fine and we had made up. I get home to find a note that he was gone and left the key and all of his stuff gone. Then I get a text asking me to call when I got home. He hadn’t prepared me at all. I was so upset. Turns out it was a big show and he didn’t actually leave his key and moved back in. I still don’t know what that was about.

We made up.

I almost left at one point. Got a bag together. Took the dog. Went to go to my friend’s house. She had a bed ready. I don’t remember what that fight was about. I wanted him to call to tell me not to go. He didn’t. I called. I talked to my friend. I went back.

We made up.

I spent my life doing everything. He almost never helped with cooking or cleaning or laundry or anything. I did all the grocery shopping, paid all the bills. He paid when we went out. I made more than him so it made some sense but he was going to get his masters degree and I was helping him get into school and then it would all work out down the line. I had found my forever, right?

Well he didn’t want to listen to my advice.

The last fight was really stupid.

I don’t really remember exactly why we had fought the night before but I remember being upset in the morning. He had the day off work and I was working. I knew he had nothing going on. I had made a big Indian meal the night before and he was supposed to do the dishes for me (just some of them, I had already done most of it). I was texting him and he wasn’t responding all morning and we were trying to work something out. Or at least I thought we were. I saw him on facebook so I knew he was on my computer at home and thus could have easily been texting me back. I asked him why he was ignoring me.

It escalated. It was stupid. But it escalated.

Before I knew it I was super pissed and he was asking how he could get out of the hole and I didn’t want to tell him what to say and have him parrot it back to me because that would mean nothing. So I was stewing all day. Stewing all the way home.

I walked in mad.

We tried to work it out and had kinda. Then there was some other thing that turned larger. He had dropped the ball on all the milestones and even ruined my birthday. It was 15 months that we were together. I wanted to do something right and just go to dinner and celebrate each other. He said no one cares about 15 months. We fought. I thought about leaving. I almost left. He got upset. I just wanted him to tell me not to go, to know that he actually cared if I left or not. Also, I think I wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt me the time he left. He couldn’t take it. He broke up with me.

I called the same friends that had dragged me out now almost 1.5 years ago. They came in as I was sobbing on the ground and he was leaving. They took me to their couch all night. He was supposed to get his things but didn’t until the next day.

I stopped sleeping. I stopped eating. I didn’t bathe or get dressed. I didn’t care. It was terrible.

I was very down for a very long time and I still think about him. I know that it wasn’t perfect by any means but I still wonder what could have been. Maybe I would have hated that life if it had worked out. Always giving in to what he wanted and ignoring myself. But I still think about it and about him and us and what went wrong. Despite it all, I think a part of me will always love him and always wonder what if.

For a brief time, I had my forever. My happily ever after.

I don’t believe in that anymore.


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