The best gift

The best gift

The best gift

Dear ex,
You will never get to see this letter. Hell I will never read it again. I lived in Edinburgh for a long time, almost grew up in that city and became the person I am. I went through a couple of dates and met you. I loved you, for a while. After which so many things happened, some were not your fault a lot of it was.

I was very eager to move. From the horrific experiences of two flat mates ago. I thought this would be a commitment thing, for me at least. However you didn’t want to commit nor did you want to get married. I think this was to do with monetary reasons and the flat.

You use to toy with me over the flat. You use to tell me how much the flat was worth even though. Let’s face it I was paying some of your mortgage. You denied it but it was fact. This was a thorn in my brain that dug deeper and deeper.

You were ill, a lot. You blamed me for your ill health. You developed asthma when you quit smoking only to start up again when you were stressed. Again blaming me. You developed chrons even when I told you to go and see the gp numerous times. You had steroid cream for your back outbreak and sore stomach. I told you they were related. You thought you knew better…..

Then you had your flare up. I was by your bedside for that entire time. You were happy that you were hiv negative as if you were accusing me of something. I spent the entire week as the fear of having your stomach removed over and over again was taking it mental toll on you. I looked after you. I supported you, you made it all about you. I was stressed and you did not even ask how I was. 

You then exacerbated the chrons by drinking red wine. Lots of it. Your medication wasn’t absorbing properly and you were going to take your own life. I had to convince you to go to the doctors to get your medication reviewed. For once you listened.

You then had hip problem from the treatment. Seeing you being unable to move was heartbreaking. Having to lift you and support you to the bath. Then lift you out. This was the start of me becoming a carer and not your partner. You then had the hip operation. Again as always I was by your side. Taking items back and forward and getting the flat ready for your return. I supported you through this. Again you were the centre of attention. 

I was working in a highly demanding job at the time, you were at your parents recovering. I was lonely and isolated, and delivering your medication to your parents house. Again the centre of attention.

Once you came back home you started to recover, you felt better and was progressing.  I was progressing at work. I was going to be a service manager. A few days before the interview you done the most stupidest thing in your life. You broke your leg in two places – this was your fault. Again by your side and having to lie to your parents how it happened. You were the centre of attention. You came back home in glorious fashion, having all the attention on yourself. Having friends over telling them different accounts. I knew the account. I saved your life. You ruined my chance at interview, I took a panic attack, this was the start of it. You claimed it wasn’t your fault. It was.

Time went on, you took more risks. You drank. A lot. I noticed a letter when I moved in with you that you got fired from the nhs for drinking excessive amounts. I should have took heed to this. This should have been a red flag. I had to take ownership of your work absences. You were extremely lucky to have such a tolerant manager. Possibly why they wanted to get rid of you when you were accused of stealing. Again something else I supported you with.

I moved jobs, you had no interest in what I was doing, you became distant. I had people I supported die. You told me to forget about it. I’m human. I told you my dad has dementia, who he was had now practically gone. You told me to forget it and you then told people I’ve never met private news. You paid no attention to how I was feeling and was only focused on yourself. The centre of attention. 

We had some good times, Italy and skye. You were abusive to me on holiday threatening to slap me. This was not acceptable. You apologised but I didn’t trust you.

You were mentally abusive. You gaslighted me. Told me that I didn’t say that. I didn’t do that, that never happened. You made me question my sanity. That wasn’t a relationship.

Your father died. Someone I liked and admired. After everything that we went through I, again was there for you. I supported not only you but your family. I saw someone die for the first time. I was told that I was not to be introduced to his brother as a partner but as a ‘friend’ though I was told ‘I was a member of the family’. This is a lie, you never wanted to get married so how would this be possible?

Time went on, I continued to support you without even a thought about myself. I started developing negative thoughts. I never spoken to you about this. Mainly because you were grieving, but mainly because I knew you wouldn’t care. I had what felt heart palpitations. You didn’t come across overly concerned. I was working crazy hours at my job you were missing work, not answering your phone, many a times I thought you took your own life.

I think a lot about death at that time. I thought everyone I loved was going to die, at that time this included you too. I had continued numerous heart palpitations, even at after the gym and told you about this you were not overly concerned about it. I spoke to my gp, broke down in tears. Never discussed with you about this. Was on diazepam, I wanted to hold back going off work because I wanted to be strong, for you. But the last five years took it toll, your dad’s death was the straw that broke the camels back. I then told you I was off sick, you didn’t seem to bother, I felt guilty taking time off something of which never concerned you in the slightest. I told you I develop anxiety. You argued with me that night, you told me your dad was dead. The attention was back on you again.

I was having several panic attacks, I thought getting away for a while would help, I went with my best friend to Loch Ness, you thought I was cured, you didn’t even ask how I was. I gravitated more to my friends than anyone else. You didn’t seem to realise that other people can become Ill from your actions. I was then on antidepressants, you weren’t bothered about this fact. I had to walk away, I came back in floods of tears as a cry for help. You took offence by this. The attention was not on you. 

I started to feel better, I applied for an internal role that I didn’t get, you told other people about my predicament without my permission. You’re very selfish.

I started a new job, a service manager, my mum wasn’t particularly well. You asked me how my mum is. As if that would make you any less selfish. You told me you wanted to break up. I was fine with this, in truth I wanted to break up with you for some time. I just wanted to maintain the status quo. You then told me that you were planning to break up with me during the summer. The time that I took my mental breakdown. The time where I needed you most after five years of supporting you. I only asked for six weeks of support from you until I got back on my feet. Again you were selfish.

After you broke up with me. I told you I was going to move to my parents, you started crying, I told you ‘it is what it is’ then left the room. The day I started my new job you tried to be friends. What game you were playing I have no idea. I wanted nothing to do with you at this point. I left.

You denied me of some things that were remaining in the flat, you gave me an hour window to pick up the remaining items even though I paid rent up until the end of the month and had the right to access the flat at any time. Again you’re selfish.

You also denied me of my new bank card. I had no access to money for a few days. Again you were selfish.

Even though I was saddened, angry and feeling all matter of different emotions. I’m really glad we’ve split up. I can start the path of self recovery. Focus on my job and family, finding love for music and have my room a bit more geeky and less like the 18th century. You’re stuck in a book shop. I’m making a difference to peoples lives, earning more than you ever will, and will have my own place. 

Dear ex, I have met someone really and truly awesome, whilst I am unsure if it will last, he is kind and sweet and generous. Thank you for the best gift you could give me. A break up.


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