Letting Go of Her

Updated: Jul 26, 2020

Breakup Stories Written By Anonymous Contributor


I have a nearly 8-year saga that is currently coming to a close, and in turn, opening some undesirable realms of emotion that I’ve worked tirelessly to avoid. When I was 25, I met a girl and fell in love. I knew from the jump, she was moving across the country a matter of months later. When that time came, we sort of did the long-distance thing, but never really communicated that we were going that route. It got weird. She came to visit me a couple of months in and things were off. I ended it abruptly and left her with a lot of confusion. I hardened up, became distant, and maintained my always-winning “logical” stance. For the next 4 years, I was in another relationship. But, I never stopped thinking about her and about us and our fairy tale whirlwind. We talked off and on. But in between, it kept becoming “too hard” to have contact. Things and life and more things happened until she was coming to my vicinity for her college homecoming. (Still with my boyfriend) I decided to make the drive and see her for the first time in over 4 years. I’m a very together person (on paper) and have my emotions and reactions generally in check. HOWEVER: 10 minutes away from the hotel meeting point, I broke out in massive hives and had to pull off the highway to vomit from nerves. I hated myself for it. PULL IT TOGETHER MAN. Then, there she was. And the connection and attraction was instant as if the last 4 years hadn’t happened and we were just us again. I went home and broke up with my beau, and started repairing my relationship with her. We talked constantly for a year. I visited her bi-monthly. Other times, she would come visit me. We even went on a couple of getaways. These encounters were always magical!! Sometimes we would go to swanky art shows and restaurant openings. Lazier nights we could be found with a bottle of wine and a couple Vicodin, just for recreational kicks (crucial later). Finally, I told her I wanted us to try again. Rightfully, she was hesitant. The way I’d acted before kept her guarded, but open to communicating and seeing how things went. We (sort of mutually) decided that she would move to my neck of the woods for a year and then we would move to somewhere new together. That year proved to be one roller coaster of fuckery. Within the first couple of weeks, it became evident that the recreational substance abuse was not a “bae’s in town, let’s have extra fun” thing. She was a pain pill addict and in deep. HOW WAS I SO BLIND. All the signs were there.  When confronted, she lied. When called out on lying, she said she would stop. (A break up helped to expedite). There were a couple of times that she slipped, and without getting into nasty details, a foundation of deep distrust was built. She did eventually get clean and quit lying and absolutely fucking soared back into the being I knew and loved, rather than this shitty, selfish victim shell she’d become. But it was too late for me. So many lies and instances that I couldn’t get out of my head left me spinning constantly. It was no way to live and created resentment, anger, seething jealousy, and overall unhappiness. Flash forward a full calendar year post the “Fuckery Mountain” ride, and I’m moving out of our place this week after being split since May. She has been my constant, even when my life didn’t revolve around her. It’s been messy, dramatic, intense, passionate, and multiple orgasm-filled... I want to be friends with her but can’t stand the thought of her with anyone else, making it hard to actually hang as friends. She did some really hurtful things at the second beginning of “us” and also at the second end. I see her. I see her potential. And I want the best for her and everything she does. She wants the same for me but holds herself too much lower standards. I’ve watched her revert back to some ugly behaviors since our break up after sooooo much progress had been made while we were together. However, I know I wasn’t my best self while we were together, because I was giving it all to her. She needed it, and I need to be needed. It’s a major complex. So now, I’m not needed by anyone. I’m thriving in my professional life. And, I’m starting to make some new friends in this awesomely lonely city. I now have all the energy and resources to expend solely on MYSELF. It’s fucking terrifying. I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO NAVIGATE THESE WATERS. But, I’m trying, and I’m a helluva lot stronger

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