I knew it was over

I knew it was over

I knew it was over

LTME-postI knew it was over when we spoke on messenger and you burst into tears halfway through the conversation. You accused me of treating you poorly even though up until that point, I was telling you how much I was missing you. I could see in your eyes that something had happened but all I had were your words to go by. You’d said you were sad that I was so far away.

I knew it was over once I’d returned from my soul-restoring journey overseas, months before I planned to. I could sense the resentment you held for me in going away and needing to repair myself. I was broken. I hadn’t realised it was “us” that was in need of repair.

I knew it was over when you hugged me at the airport once I’d returned to you, but I told myself we could fix this. You’d said all of the right things to make me think we would fix this together. I felt like I was hugging a stranger.

I knew it was over when on my first night back, you wanted to go out with friends because “they’d missed me”. I could tell that you didn’t share in that sentiment.

I knew it was over when you got drunk and came home at 3am (after meeting her and your friends who knew about the two of you) and told me that I was crazy from the very start of our 8 year relationship. I thought you were a better man than that. I thought we could come back from that. I thought your friends and their girlfriends were better than that.

I knew it was over when after our first counselling session, we’d walked home together and you suggested I continue going to counselling alone. As you sat on the couch it was apparent from both our body language that you’d checked out of the relationship and for some reason felt the need to keep up the facade, as I sat perched on the edge of my seat in floods of tears.

I knew it was over when you were messaging her late at night, next to me in our bed but turning away so I couldn’t see the screen. I saw the last one she’d sent you before you could erase it and thought I could somehow win you back.

I knew it was over the day I tried to do my volunteer work and could barely string a sentence together. I met you afterwards at a bar with “our friends” and sensed the strange air hanging over the group. On our way home you told me I “looked like hell”. I dropped your hand and I said “I can’t do this anymore”. I knew you weren’t man enough to break it off yourself so you treated me like rubbish to force me to do it.

I knew it was over when I heard from your friends only after I’d reached out to them to tell them we were over. I thought their “condolences” were inadequate for the amount of time we’d all been a part of a “group”. It was tepid at best. One finds out very quickly how disposable you are when you break up with the “good guy” in the group.

I’m glad it’s over because now I’m free and don’t have your abusive words to hold me back. I no longer have to listen to your friends tell me how I’m “punching above my weight” when in reality we both knew it was the other way around and your friends were trying to make you feel good.

I’m glad it’s over because I no longer doubt myself in the things I do, the people I spend time with or the nature of my goals and convictions. I don’t need to argue my points only to feel shut down when you walk away from a heated discussion. You are incapable of being an adult in times that it requires you to do so. I will never again let anyone shut me down, including myself, when I’m discussing something “too passionately”.

I’m glad it’s over because now I’m able to spend time with a man who’s able to satisfy me physically and emotionally more than you could ever in the time we were together. I’ve reclaimed my sensual side and love touching and hugging other humans. You felt like such a robot the final three years of our relationship that I began thinking I was not attractive. Thankfully I no longer feel that way.

I’m glad it’s over because I no longer allow others to dictate how I spend my time. I no longer feel the obligation to entertain your friends by feeding them, watching you play video games or drinking to excess and wondering why you’re unable to sleep properly. I don’t care about what you do in your spare time and thankfully never have to again.

I’m glad it’s over because I now know that what I was feeling was real and not just in my head like you’d accused me of so many times before. I no longer need to hear you tell me “I’m a man of integrity” even when my instincts are telling me otherwise.

I’m glad it’s over because I no longer have to deal with your racist, sexist, homophobic father who supposedly “really liked” me. I no longer need to care about listening to your mother’s casually racist “but she’s not racist” comments. I no longer need to hear about how the racism I’m feeling is not really happening, from a white male in the self-proclaimed “most multicultural” city in Australia.

I’m glad it’s over because I now know that I’m a beautiful, strong woman who doesn’t need you in her life anymore. You have been relegated to my regretful past, which I will no longer revisit. I am free of you gas-lighting me in thinking anything real that I’m feeling, is not happening. I embrace my vulnerability as a sentient human being and I love the feeling.

I’m glad it’s over because now I no longer feel guilty for falling into a depression after my father’s death. I can feel the deep pain that it brought me without having to take your feelings into consideration. I no longer have to factor you into any aspects of my life.

I’m glad it’s over because even though you took my home from me, you were unable to take my dignity away. You thought you had when you assumed I’d just slink away because I was so broken. Little did you know, the short time I did have overseas and away from you and around people who deeply love me, gave me the strength I needed and the wherewithal to get through the worst breakup I’ve ever experienced all the while fighting off a deep depression.

I’m glad it’s over and I’m on the other side of this.

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