Hey you, 

I don't really know how else to address what's going on with us so I figured I'd do what I know how to do and write it all down.  This last week has been really hard for me and I can feel the depression creeping up and taking hold.  It's kind of funny really - you said that you were attracted to broken people but I wasn't quite so broken before I met you.  Sad yes, and lonely, but not broken.  I only broke when you crushed my heart underfoot.

Other than saying I love you, you've initiated pretty much everything.  Telling me that you liked me, asking about how I look and inquiring after a picture, making suggestive comments, sending me special photographs of yourself.  You were the one to start calling me honey, love, my heart.  You were the one who told me that you were mine, long before I ever said that I loved you.  That stopped dead this week.  Overnight.  Like I was some stranger to you rather than the woman who stayed up night after night to enjoy your company and share hers.  I may not have been comfortable taking those first steps, but when I said that I loved you I meant it.  My whole heart was in it.  I gave you the power to destroy me and you did.  That kind of deception?   Being discarded that way?  It hurts.  I can't even begin to explain how much.

The hardest part is how sudden it was.  You said that you've been thinking about this for weeks now but you've only started pulling away in the last few days.  Have you met someone new?  It seems the only obvious answer right now.  I'm pretty sure I can hazard a guess.  You started acting strange and last night I  felt like I had been completely and utterly cast to the side.  You've never ignored my messages before, never left me wondering if you were okay.  You were always letting me know when you were home, at the gym, out for a walk.  Last night I stayed up wondering.  Today I was a wreck until I finally heard from you.  Tonight, I don't expect anything.  It is pretty clear that my love and my worry mean nothing to you.

Continued.

You liked to talk like you were so confident and big in your britches - how you were going to take a risk for how you felt and not let fear keep you from the amazing thing we could be.  It was all a huge lie - to yourself, to me, to the people that you happily told about us.  You crumbled when you looked at that risk and realized that you would actually have to take it.  You can't even manage to gather your courage and end things between us like a man.  Instead you've just pushed me away, discarded me.  You're a coward.  You like broken people BECAUSE they need you, because the standard they measure you against is so small.  You perpetuate your own bad choices, and whether you want to be needed or not, you need to be needed.  It empowers you.  You kept saying that you were worried that you wouldn't live up to my expectations.  I can assure you that before that was not the case.  Now, it absolutely is.  I may not have an entirely positive image of myself but my self-worth is not in question and I deserve way better than you can offer.

You seemed to think that I idealized you, that I did not see your flaws.  The truth is - I did, but the flaws don't always make the person.  You lose out on getting to know a lot of really great people if you let the flaws blind you to who they really are.  In the end, intent counts for a lot. You can see a person's flaws and cracks but still love them if they are trying to overcome them.  People can become better than they are if that's what they want for themselves.  The problem with you is that you aren't really trying to better yourself.  You just... pretend.  Every once in a while a very mean and bitter person pops through, one who judges others and speaks callously.  Every time that happened, I was a little thrown because it seemed so out of character for the man that I thought I knew.  I have started to understand that you live behind masks.  Everyone sees a different one.  The problem is, there's a real you behind there somewhere and the fact that you keep hiding him speaks a lot about your own sense of self.  You hide because you don't feel that you will be accepted as you are.  It must be so lonely.

I really wanted to know you.  I deeply love the man I thought you were, although I have doubts now as to whether or not he is real.  I thought, perhaps childishly, that I saw the real you, that the masks you threw up couldn't hide you from me.  I think I was flattering myself.   You change with the wind.  Who you were when you were with your ex-wife was so different from who you were when you were with me.  I guess maybe you don't even know yourself.  It's kind of sad, and I feel bad for you.  You can't hide behind a mask forever.  Eventually you will need to learn how to be yourself - to be honest, be open, be you.  You'll need to learn how to take risks.

I might write about us someday, if I ever do decide to pick my pen back up, but the story will have the ending that I envisioned for us.  You might even read it, penned under a name you won't recognize.  That would be fitting somehow.  I love you.  I hope that you find yourself and that you end up happy.  I'm not sure whether or not I believe that you worry about me but if you do, don't.  I intend to get my happy ending.  I had hoped it would be with you, but the fact that it won't be will not dishearten me.

Love, me

P.S. I wasn't sure whether or not to include this but I feel that it needs to be said.Over time, I've gotten the sense that you help people because you need it to feel good about yourself.  You feed on it.  You've mentioned that in the past, asking whether or not it's selfish that you feel better about yourself after helping someone.  The fact remains that intent dictates whether or not an action is ultimately good or bad.  With you, it's become clear that the intent IS selfish.  You throw on the charm and act like you care to draw people in, and they fall for it - that would be manipulation.  You build people up and then you ditch them.  You need to try to have more care - people are not toys or electronics, and they can't always be glued or pieced back together if you break them.

Day 3: (June 26th, 2017)

I miss you.  My world felt like it lacked air today, a voice.  I wanted so badly to message you and pretend that things were fine and that we could be friends, but we can't.  I am still in love but the man I love was only a mask you wore, and the you who exists behind it is not someone I would want.

There's a pain in knowing that you were never real but there's also a sense of relief.  That mask you wore, the feelings you directed at me, only existed because you mirrored me and my needs.  The you I gave my heart to is inside me, a part of myself that I can always love.  As twisted as our relationship ended up being, as empty and shallow and painful, it has taught me more about myself. About what I want out of life, out of love. About what I need in order to be happy.

I'll take the bucket list I wrote for us, the one we read together, and I'll do it for me.  A gift to myself.  And that mask, the one I love, I'll carry it in my heart until I become the person I want to be.  It will slowly become a part of my heart and it will be the only part of you that I take with me.

Day 4: (June 27th, 2017)

Late night is the worst - I'm not quite exhausted enough to sleep but my brain won't shut off and my walls are down.  I can't help but think of you.

I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire keeps playing on iTunes, popping up like a horrible nightmare to disrupt the good mood created by every previous song that has played.  Try as I might I can't seem to make myself delete it.  It's such a visceral reminder of you, of us, and I'm not ready to let go yet.  Your voice, singing it to me across the distance separating us, always filled my heart with an overwhelming sense of love and peace.  I still wish you were here.  I think a part of me will always be waiting for your arrival.  That perfect picture, of you arriving at the airport with a smile and flowers, a hug and kiss that go on and on, forever etched in my mind.  A memory of something that never actually happened but that I can feel every time I think about it.  You arms around me, your lips on mine.

Why do I torture myself like this?  Why do I still want you when I know what you are?  When I know that the person you played out for me doesn't exist?  I am longing for a dream.   The pain of that knowledge is almost unbearable.  I gave you everything I could and I thought you had done the same.  Yours.  Mine.  Words we gave each other except that I meant my half.  I really was yours, and I believed that you were mine.  I handed you my heart and the only thing you could think to do with it was crush it.  Why do I still love you?  Why am I such a fool?

Day 5: (June 28th, 2017)

Not a good person.  You're not a good person.  Not a single thing about any of this is right.  I think that seeing you in the harsh light of day, for who you really are, has helped me move away from sadness and towards anger, and pity.  Where we stand now, I don't see how a friendship will ever be possible for us.  You lack the basic ability to be a human being, much less a kind one, something I should have seen before.  You said horrible things about her, things that made me uneasy and unsure how to respond, and then you left me for her.  Such disgust, and then you hooked up with her.  I have no respect for you.  You speak out of both sides of your mouth and it's unclear whether either side speaks truth.

I wish that I had seen the signs before, that I hadn't brushed away the worries raised by questionable remarks you made.  Every once in a while I think, "I suppose I should be grateful that he never spoke to me with anything but kindness until the end" and then I question the fact that this is even a thought I harbor at all.  Of course you should have spoken to me in kindness; I should never expect anything less from someone I love.  The fact that you did what you did, that you ended it the way you did, that you never apologized, that you show no remorse - these make you less in my eyes.  I don't know for sure whether or not you have NPD (though I strongly suspect it now) but I am tired of making excuses for you, for your behaviour.  I am tired of defending you, of trying to protect my friends from you while still not dragging you through the mud.  You don't deserve it.  You don't deserve any of my kindness.

You told me to hate you.  No.  That would only serve to keep you in my mind and heart, and the strength of that emotion would weigh me down.  I choose to see you instead.  The real you.  To pity you for your inability to feel, and to hope that you manage to find happiness anyway.  To do anything less would be to lower myself and I refuse to do that.  I want to be able to meet my own eyes in the mirror and respect the person that I see there.  So instead, I'll leave this here:  Own the decisions you made, try to treat her better than you treated me, and be happy if you can.  Life is too short to do anything else.

Day 6: (June 29th, 2017)

I'm not okay today.  I am too tired, emotionally and physically, to build myself up and fortify my heart.  You hurt me.  You hurt me more than anyone has ever hurt me before.

I spend my days watching the kids and chatting with friends, trying to fill the hole you've left behind.  We talked so much; you were always there.  And now... it's gone from everything to nothing.  The last week has been like a bad dream.  Every morning I wake up and, for a brief moment, entertain the idea that it was, but I know it's not.  Your last message glares back at me when I look at our chat - "Just hate me."  I refuse to do that, and at the moment I couldn't even if I wanted to.

Your name, falling farther down that list of messages most recently received, fills my heart with sadness.

Most of the time I manage okay.  I think about you, about your face and voice, and feel a little melancholy but I get by.  The improvement is already obvious - some part of me is growing accustomed to your absence.  But then I'll think of the fact that you have someone new, that you chose her over me, and it's like a knife to the heart.  A lie might have been kinder.  Ending it a few days before would have been kinder.  I wish you had had that kindness in you.

The things we talked about, just hours before you left and met her...  How?  How could you do that?  How could you talk about having sex with me, about being here with me, and then hook up with someone that you just met.  How could you tell me that I'm beautiful and wonderful and then turn around and spend the night with someone that you had been insulting the day before?  You have no heart and no conscience and no morals.  You are barely a person.

And tonight, exhausted and barely holding myself together, I don't feel much like one myself.  I wish I could turn myself off, not feel anything.  Instead, I'm filled with pain and sadness, and the one thought I keep entertaining although I know it's petty and wrong is that I hope you have enough of a heart that she can break it.

Day 7: (June 30th, 2017)

As I sit here, trying to think of what to journal, I realize that I'm not feeling anything for you: no longing, no pain, no sadness... no love.  For the first time, I believe that I'm on the way to being over you.

I had an appointment with my therapist today and she advised me that trying to help you would be a waste of energy.  I'm inclined to agree.  You are you, you will always be you, wearing a million masks and changing your face for every person you meet.  If I had to identify how I feel for you in this moment I would have to say that I pity you.  You can't be alone, and you need constant reassurance.  If everything I've read is to be believed, you have a hollowness within you that keeps you from feeling complete without the adoration of others.  I can't imagine what that must feel like.  That fear you carry within you that your true self will be discovered by those around you must be horrible to bear.  Do you even know who your true self is?  I wish that I could give you a piece of what you're missing, that I could gift you some of my empathy, but life doesn't work that way.  Empathy can't be traded or trained - when it's missing, so is the part of you that allows you to connect with others.  I wish, more than anything, that a part of the man that I fell in love with could really live within the man that you truly are.  The man I loved was beautiful and sweet.  Unfortunately he was also an illusion, the pretty mask that you wore to lower my defenses and make me love you.  It worked.  I assured you that you were a born storyteller, and you called me your muse.  I suppose in some way that's true.  The false self you created for me was certainly inspired by me.

I told you that I wasn't sure whether or not we would ever be able to be friends, and I'm still not sure, but I do know one thing - I can see you now.  You don't have the element of surprise on me anymore and the walls around my heart are secure.  Our friendship will be on my terms.  Any hint of manipulation, of idealization, of devaluation... and I'm gone.

Day 8: (July 1st, 2017)

For the first time in over a week, I can say with honesty that today was great.  I spent Canada Day with the two little people that I love most, and then had a fun evening of BattleBlock Theatre and FFXIV with friends.

I think my journaling may be coming to an end, though I do intend to keep writing.  Possibly under a new, and less depressing, name.

Day 19: (July 13th, 2017)

I had been feeling so good in the last little while.  Doing things for myself and by myself had made me feel stronger and more connected to the world.  It had also given me the will to move past what you did to me, to us, to help drive from my mind how easy it was for you to toss me aside. Falsely, it made me believe that I was over you.

I thought that I could be your friend but ever since I started talking to you again, I feel withdrawn, lonely, and depressed.  The things about you that used to make me happy make me sad instead because I know that you aren't mine, and the things that you talk about doing destroy me because I'll never get to do them with you.  My heart, in pieces, is still trying to find its way back to you because that's where it was whole and because it's still yours.

It seems so unfair when I really think about it - I spent so much time trying to help fix you and once you were mostly whole again, you turned around and broke me.  You express regret now but I don't believe it - I can't believe it.  The fact that you are only offering an "I'm sorry" now, after things didn't work out with her, makes it extremely suspect.  I was your convenient distraction once, and I don't think I could bear to mean so little to you ever again.

In all of this, the part that makes me the biggest fool is that I still want to help you.  To know you.  To learn about you.  I want to bury my head in your shoulder and sob my heart out because it feels like it's the only place I might find some peace.  I want to be able to touch your face and run my fingers through your hair.  I want to put my hand against your chest and know that your heart is beating below my palm.  I want to be in your heart again.

I have spent the last few hours crying and I'm finally tired.  I know I'll dream of you.  I know I'll wake with you on my mind.  Small blessings that I never remember what I dream because if it's beautiful it will be another loss come morning, and if it's horrible, it will just reinforce my pain.  I'm still broken, and being around you just rips off the tape.

I need to sleep.

Day 42: (August 4th, 2017)

I am not your ex-wife.  I'm not worried for the same reasons she would have been... or maybe I am?  I sometimes wonder if maybe she could tell that your eyes wandered and so she wanted you where you couldn't do anything.  Before I assumed that she was the bad one and you the innocent victim, but the situation has changed and I realize that there are two sides to every story.  Why didn't she want you going out?  Why didn't she want you around female friends?  Maybe she knew you couldn't be trusted around them and sought to prevent any damage before it occurred?  Who knows?

What I do know is that you've already done damage to us.  The fact that I've forgiven you, that I don't want to hear any more apologies, does not mean that I trust you.  I trusted you and you hurt me, you slept with someone else, you left me without any reason, and then - when I told you that I trusted you anyway once we'd reconciled, when I believed that you were telling me the truth - I found out that you were hiding yet another deceitful thing that you had done.  I don't trust you.  I would be a complete fool to trust you right now my love.

When I saw the screenshots I was hurt - I actually think I may have been in shock - but, a small part of me was expecting it.  A small part of me was expecting that other shoe to drop and just thought, "Ah, yep, there it is."  That part of me has grown since then.  I'm trying to trust you, I really am, but I don't.  Every time you go out I expect to have the ground ripped out from under me again.  I hate feeling like this.  I'm on edge.  I feel anxious and jealous and completely paranoid.  It's hell and I don't know how to get past it.  I don't even have anyone to talk to about it because none of my friends trust you either.  You are 2200km away and the reality of the situation we are in is that you could do absolutely anything you want, lie to me about it, and I would be clueless.  That scares me so much you can't imagine.

I miss trusting you.  I miss how easy it was.  I hate loving you so much that I ache to be with you, without even being able to trust that you aren't sleeping with other people.  I don't want to tell you because I know how horrible this sounds.  It is horrible.  I know it would probably sting to read, but try to understand that I am actually living this and I have no idea how to move past it.  I have never been in this situation before.  I want the terrible thoughts and images out of my head.  I don't want to question everything endlessly, to constantly imagine the worst possible outcome to the things you do.

So why am I worried?  Why...  You added a new friend on FB today - FB saw fit to let me know.  She's a she, and now you're out on a Friday night.  Date night.  Where do you think paranoia has taken me with this?  I am in hell.  I hope you're having a better night than I am love.

Day 58: (August 21st, 2017)

I love you, probably more than you realize, and sometimes I worry that I'm still that convenient distraction for you.  I have this family life that I come package deal with and it gives you something to focus your energy and attention on.  Thing is, once you get here and meet my kids and start a life with us, it's not just you who'll get invested.  It's them too.  You need to be sure about this my love because while I'll risk getting hurt for you, I don't want to put my kids in that position.

And tonight... it felt like last time.  I think you're panicking again, and how long before it spirals into self-destruction?  Yes, you approached and let me in but only just enough and you dodged the questions that I asked.  Regardless of what you say, I'm sure that you still love her.  I don't know how that fits with us - can you really love me too if you're still hurting for her?  That's something only you can know and I doubt you would want to consider or admit that to yourself.  As you stated, you want to move on.  I'm just scared that what you see in me is a chance for that, and not necessarily the reality of who I am.  We won't last if this is just you trying to forget her, and I will be utterly devastated if I lose you again.

What really stung more than anything was that I felt like I had to drag you onto a call with me, like that's not where you wanted to be.  It hurt.  I don't think you realized that I cried tonight, but I did.  I cried because when I'm sad or hurting, all I want is to hear your voice and be as close to you as I can be given our physical distance.  I cried because you obviously don't feel the same way.  And I cried because it felt like déjà vu, like things were spiraling out and breaking apart like last time.  Part of me was waiting for you to say that you weren't sure about us, that you rushed into the "I love you"s again.  That part still is.  Things feel different.  I'm worried.  I'm worried about you, I'm worried about us, and I'm worried about me because I know how I felt last time you walked out on me and I'm all the more invested now.  Love, I am so caught up in you.  I don't think you know how easily you can break me.  I am scared of losing you and it hurts.

I wish that I had more faith but our relationship has been such a roller-coaster.  From strangers to possible friends to not talking for a year and a half, only to end up back in each other's lives and helping one another through rough times, then friends to more then to nothing and back to this impossibly crazy love.  I feel like I don't know which way is up half the time, and I'm drowning.  Is this good for either of us?  It feels like we've been doing this song and dance for an eternity when really we just started talking again 7 months ago after a year and a half of no contact.  Why are things so intense between us?  Why do I feel like I've been waiting for you forever?  I have never felt this way before.  I have never wanted anyone the way that I want you.  It's both exhilarating and terrifying.

I really hope I'm wrong, that you are as invested as me and that we're both in it for the long haul.  You've made my life brighter and bigger in the last few months than it has been in a long time and I'm so grateful to you for that.  I love you more than words can say.  I know you won't get a chance to read this but: Happy Birthday baby - regardless of what happens, this world is a better place with you in it and I'm thankful that you are.  <3  I love you.

Day 59: (August 22nd, 2017)

There are warning bells going off in my head - so much of this reminds me of last time.  I promised I could do this, but I'm not sure if I can.  Your past and current actions, coupled with my own distrust and paranoia, are tormenting me.  I feel like I'm going insane.

*****

You don't regret having sex with her.  You told me that you did, that it was horrible, but tonight...  You don't regret having sex with her.  She almost destroyed us and you don't regret having sex with her.  You broke my heart for her and you don't regret having sex with her.

You came back to me, but you don't regret what you did.  How am I supposed to believe that you care?

Day 74: (September 5th, 2017)

I feel like you're lying to me.  About a lot of things.

I know the two girls you added to FB in the last month are girls that you met at the pool hall.  Not because you were upfront and told me, but deduction.  One of them coincides with the two nights that you visited the pool hall just a day apart.  The first night you said that you'd met a guy and had been chatting about games.  I expected him to show up on your FB so I paid attention - instead, you added a girl.  The second night you said that you'd met another guy, that you were talking to him, then you disappeared and didn't message me back until morning.  I didn't sleep you know?  I can only guess at what happened.

And now the whole albums lie.  You had a CS album when we got back together in July - you mentioned playing it at bedtime.  Last month you said that you were going to the flea market, were gone a couple of hours, and when I asked if you found anything you said a CS album.  Number 2.  Just a few days ago you decided to visit the flea market again, and when I asked if you'd found anything, you again responded that you'd bought a CS album.  Number 3.  I commented that you really like CS, thinking nothing of it, when you responded that it was only the second album you owned...  So, at what point were you lying?  Which time were you not actually out at the flea market when you said that you were?  I ran this by friends and general consensus is that you can't be trusted.

I'm not sure what the game is here but you're hurting me.

Whenever you're having a bad day or night, or it seems like you're in pain, you push me away.  We talked for less than an hour last night because you wanted to watch TV - that's fine, okay, I get it but... you stayed up all night.  You couldn't have given me a little more time than that?  And today...  I checked in this morning, worried by the last message you sent me last night, and didn't get a response until almost noon.  If you'd been sleeping I would have understood, but you weren't.  You were at work, and you were on FB, so why the silence?  Why do we have strings of days where you're perfect and sweet and everything is okay and then you do this?  You keep upending my world, shattering the trust that I am desperately trying to rebuild in you.  I don't understand.

You told me that you wanted this, that you want me, so why are you sabotaging it?  Get your act together or let me go.

Day Too Fucking Far Along To Count: (March 26th, 2018)

And you've broken my heart again. I don't even really know why this time. Apparently the reason you gave me was the last straw - only, I don't know what the other straws were. You said that you were looking forward to seeing me again. You told me that you loved me, loved me so much, and then two days later you destroyed me.

I thought we were happy, I thought you wanted to be with me. When we got to meet for the first time last month... it was amazing. Beyond amazing. I couldn't stop touching you, kissing you, holding you. It's like my heart and soul and eyes were trying to memorize every part they could. It worked. I can feel you there, imprinted on me, and sometimes it's so overwhelming that I can't help but cry. I left a part of my heart there in Alabama, with you, and it's never coming back. You're never coming back. I don't know how to get past this. How can someone go from being in love and welcoming you home one month, to destroying you the next? There's no way to describe this pain. At least when someone dies, you know they're gone. It hurts so bad, but they're gone from everywhere and everyone. When someone leaves you, especially when they live in a different country like this, they're just gone from you. I know you're out there - other people get to see you and talk to you every day - but I can't be with you. I don't know if you're okay, I don't know if you're happy, I don't know if you've found someone else. You're just... gone. And I miss you. I miss your voice, how you felt when I hugged you and the taste of your lips when I kissed you. I miss you singing to me. I miss running my fingers through your hair. You were my family, my friend, my future. I miss you. It hurts so much.

I wanted to disappear today. To walk in front of a car and just be gone. Instead, I went to the clinic, where they sent me to emergency. I was there for hours. I came out with a referral to a therapist (again), and a prescription for Seroquel and Ativan. Though they're primarily meant for my anxiety, I really hope they help with depression. I've been crying since Thursday, I'm tired, and I'm drowning. I don't see any up. I don't see any way I can ever open myself up like that again. I don't want to. I'm very tempted to go back to safe. Safe means no more tears. You've broken me love.