When is enough, enough?

My boyfriend is still out of town. 

After a few days of mental torture, he let up. The last 24 hours were bliss. . . That is, until an hour ago.

I had chosen an old profile picture on Facebook, to replace our picture several days ago. I only had it up for 5 minutes and I changed it back, after his demand. Things were going so smoothly, when he asked for me to add him back tonight, I did. 

I would estimate it took 2 whole minutes before chaos ensued. He demanded I delete every person that had liked the old profile picture. I would be allowed to keep the 2 family members and the one lady that is always so sweet to me. No, not delete. Block. I did 4 of them, as most have already been deleted in the last two years anyway. None of these people were recent likes. These people liked this photo before I even had met my boyfriend. These people are women. (I’m not allowed guy friends on Facebook if they interact with me). 

There I was, cutting up mangoes to freeze for my smoothies and then I was on my knees having a panic attack. My life can change so quickly. He told me to marry him thirty minutes before this happened. I told him that of course I would.

What steps, what mistakes… how did this happen to me? WHY did this happen to me? Why did I fall in love with someone that can treat me like this? And the biggest question of them all: why the hell can’t I walk away?

 I don’t have a job but I do have a home. I live in my mothers house (alone with my children). He moved 90 percent of his things out this week. My mom says that we can do this together. She will even move in with me and help with the kids. 

I blamed assets, sharing a home, children etc on staying with my narcissistic husband for so long. What is it that is making me stay now? At what point will I decide that I’ve had enough? 

So… It’s come to this. 

Bad cold. Sleepless nights.

I was jarred from my sleep and saw it was still dim outside, unaware of the rain. Again, I heard a soft knocking on the door. I stumbled to the door and peeped out. I thought it was a police officer, as I’m anxiously waiting to be served with divorce papers. I opened it and my heart sank. I was in trouble. 

It was just a man that’s been wanting to buy my small storage building. He’s called my boyfriend about it, finally just stopping by because he wants to go ahead and purchase it as soon as possible. I know he could tell I was nervous. I kept telling him to call my boyfriend. 

I got back in bed. My stomach began to turn. I had to make a decision. I could lie and hope the man wouldn’t tell… or I could risk telling I had answered the door and possibly get in trouble.

I texted my boyfriend and said that I needed to talk to him. He asked if it was bad. I honestly said I didn’t think so but I was having anxiety over it. I thought that would help. Look how scared I am over something so silly. Tell me how silly this is. Love me.

He called. I started by telling him how scared I was of being in trouble. I wanted him to know that I wanted to be able to tell the truth, with no repercussions.

He started getting angry. I needed to start from the beginning, leaving no details out. I frantically went over the conversation, finishing with shutting the door. Did I tell him my boyfriend was out of town? Oh no… you’re right. I did. Start from the beginning, cunt.  I got more frantic. I got yelled at more. I started sobbing. He didn’t hear the words I was saying. My words have changed and he didn’t even notice. Those tears were for me. When did I become this person? Why is this my life? 

I feel like I’ve just realized how damaged I really am. How do I even begin to pick up my pieces? 

To the men that have unintentionally caused this week of hell: The man who told me I shouldn’t leave my purse open at the bar. The 70ish year old veteran that I hugged and thanked for his service. The man that stared a little too long, recognizing me from school if I’m not mistaken. I know you didn’t mean to. How could you possibly know?

To the man who made me realize all of this: I hope I can do something with this. I hope I can find strength to walk away. I hope I can keep my promise to myself and seek counseling on Monday. 

6 a.m.

6 a.m. is my favorite.

I set my alarm just a little earlier than necessary. I run out of bed to grab my phone as I hear sleepy mumbling Where are you going? Come back. I dart back in bed and nestle my chin in my favorite spot in the world, the crevice between his two shoulder blades. I slip my arm under his, putting my hand on his chest above his heart. My world is beating underneath my palm. I breathe in his scent and let his short hair tickle my nose, which always makes me smile. I love you, I whisper. He loves me too, at 6 a.m.

This man. This brilliant, beautiful, strong, courageous man that I am madly in love with is all mine, at 6 a.m.

Before I have to share him with the rest of the world, before the weight rests on our shoulders, even before the sun is up… at 6 a.m.

This is how almost every day starts for me. It covers me like a shield though the second I leave his presence, it slowly melts away, after 6 a.m.

I’m not really okay. My life has been drastically changed in the past year. A lot of good changes, excellent in fact, but change none the less. Processes that it took to get me here. My career loss being such a blow that it is taking everything in me to hold my broken pieces together.

See, he is my glue. The very gravity that holds me on this planet. Without him, I’d float off in to darkness. I’ve managed to find happiness, within myself, somehow always. I didn’t need anyone emotionally. I was only half of a person and somehow, finding my other half has made me feel desperately incomplete when I’m not with him, whether it be physically or mentally.

Sometimes, I falter. I’m not perfect. I’m undeserving. I sometimes think I have some sort of dyslexia, a miscommunication from my heart to actions towards him. A voice inside me always screaming as I clumsily stumble through, making mistake after mistake.

I only hope that he sees. Words mean nothing, he says. My actions could never be big enough to show what he would see if only he could see my heart. Maybe one day, at 6 a.m., he’ll see.