You’re Just A Chapter From My Life, Not The Happy Ending (And I’m Better Off Because Of It)

You came on strong. You did and said all of the right things to make me trust you, to really let you in. You told me you had never met anyone in your life who knows the real you, not even your family, and that I was your “best friend.”

After a while, you showed me your controlling factor and your jealous, angry side. You were extremely cocky and rude to mostly everyone around us. You said you hated my friends when I was in San Diego, because they were “bad influences”, and tried to get me to stay away from them. I stayed with you anyway because I truly believed that if I loved you, and you loved me the way you said you did, we could work on those issues and maybe fix your trust issues.

You went to a psychiatrist. He told you that you had a narcissistic personality disorder. You told me not to worry and that we would work through everything, together. I thought this was your epiphany.

It wasn’t.

You got mad when I would go to Target alone, after we moved in together. You didn’t believe that I was actually there, and needed to see the receipt for proof.

You got mad when friends of the opposite sex would message me about daily life. You got angry when my male boss messaged me about work.

This is when I should have left you. But, I didn’t.

A year and a half went by, you proposed.

I said yes.

Three short weeks later, I was away for work and at a painful place in my life. I let my walls down. I let you see me in pain. I needed you the most at this point.

You weren’t there. When I stated that I needed you, you claimed I was too clingy for asking you to take a couple minutes from your day to hold a conversation with me.

When I returned home, you made me give the ring back. You made it clear it was over, but that I could stay at our home if I wanted to.

I didn’t stay.

And now, I fully take back reaching out to you, and sending you that late night, “I miss you” message. What I really meant was that I miss the person I thought you were. I miss some of our memories – but not who you really are as a person.

For a while there, I held onto this fake hope that maybe you would come around and realize that I would have done anything for you, despite everything that had happened.

I was the ultimate chase of an independent woman that needed no one, and that intrigued you. Once you knew you had me, and once you saw me drop my highest walls– you left, emotionally – and all of the sudden, I was the crazy one because I actually gave a shit about you.

You still won’t speak about how you hurt me and what you have done, because you know how fucked up it was. You knew what we had, but nobody else did, so you portrayed me as the “crazy ex” to all of your friends.

Well, I’m not crazy. I loved you – despite of all of your fucked up controlling, narcissistic tendencies.

Because of you, I am stronger now, with a taller wall for someone else to climb. But with that, comes my independence. I don’t need you, or any man for that matter. I am more myself now, than I ever was. I have learned to enjoy the little things in life again. My hobbies, my interests are now mine again. I have my self-respect back, and my standards are only that much higher for when the next man decides to try to jump into my life.

I still hold no grudges or bitter feelings toward you. My truest intentions all along were to support you and help you become better. I still wish that for you.