I dated a boy for about nine months. There was a period of about two months in there that we didn’t talk because I was going through a lot of shit and he was busy with work and all around I guess just didn’t care about what I was dealing with.
We never had the exclusivity talk. It was just assumed. He was a busy guy and I got to see him once a week, but he was the only guy I was interested in seeing. In that entire nine month period, he was the only guy I dated, the only guy I kissed, the only guy I did anything with.
He was older than me, by about 7 years. He was 30 years old and by definition, should be referred to as a man. But he wasn’t. He was boy. Men don’t act the way he did.
The entire time I dated him, I had suspected that he might have been manic bipolar, because the signs were there, but it never affected our relationship. Towards the end, he had become increasingly flakey, bailing on my birthday dinner to go to Iowa for a friend’s funeral (something that I now doubt the actuality of), bailing on simple dinners, and bailing on just spending the night together. And now I know that he’s actually a narcissistic psychopath.
He would get agitated and flip out on me when I’d point it out. The last three weeks were extremely rocky. He had a new job, a side business, and his uncle died (or so he claimed). Essentially, he was using every excuse to skip town.
He went to Omaha one weekend, then Colorado the following weekend. At this point, it had been nearly two months since I had seen him in person, despite living one town away from another. He’d make plans, and then cancel them at the last minute. Over and over and over again for the entirety of the two months.
I had desperately tried to get him in person so I could break it off because I couldn’t handle it anymore. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get him to agree to anything. So I started giving him outs in our text conversations. I told him about the feelings I had for him and if he didn’t feel the same then I needed to know. I began to tell him that if he didn’t want to do this anymore then I wanted him to end it, but every time he’d assure me he had feelings for me too, liked me a lot, he’s just busy, and that we’d talk about it later.
It was foolish of me, but I believed him. He left for Colorado and I stopped trying to contact him figuring that what we needed was a week of no contact to sort things out and things would be fine when he got back.
Boy, was I wrong.
Halfway through the week, I log onto Facebook to see his relationship status had changed into a relationship with some random girl from Omaha. I couldn’t believe this. I sent a screenshot of it to him asking how hard could it be to be an adult and break things off with me first, especially when I gave him so many chances and opportunities to do so.
As any normal person would do in this situation, I expected him to apologize. But he didn’t. Instead, he attacked me, making claims that weren’t true (such as me dating dozens of other guys while dating him) and telling me I was full of shit and needed to get over myself. Overall, it was an incredibly childish of him. He swung wildly from attacking me to telling me how much he liked me back to attacking me and then back to telling me how amazing I was and telling me how sorry he was.
I had had enough. I stopped responding.
I spent two days crying after this. I was over him and had no desire to take him back, but I was upset, hurt, and disturbed by how it had played out and the things he had said to me and how he treated me.
After two days of listening to sad music and crying, I was ready to be angry instead. I switched to my playlist appropriately titled “Angry Ho” and three songs into it, I had a realization that I was happy to have had:
If I didn’t want him back, then why did I care?
Why was I spending so much time upset? Sure his psychopathic behavior was hurtful, but no amount of mourning was going to make him truly be sorry. You can’t change the behavior of someone who sees nothing wrong with it.
I want him to know that I won’t spend a minute more hung up on him. Shitty people do shitty things to unsuspecting people all the time and he was no exception. Plenty of other people in this world are likely spending this moment upset over something someone did to them, and I’m certainly not the first person to be hurt, nor will I be the last.
It also occurred to me that as cliche as it sounds, I deserve better. I deserve someone who won’t bail on me, who won’t cheat on me, and can’t have the decency to end something with me, both over text and in person. You see, no one should ever have to beg someone to love them. They shouldn’t have to beg someone to commit to them, and they sure as hell shouldn’t have to beg someone to respect them. And when they get hurt, they shouldn’t be told they aren’t allowed to feel that way, because if someone tells you that you hurt them, you can’t tell them you didn’t.
So I want the boy who broke my heart to know this:
You hurt me and you broke my heart. But you already knew that, and quite frankly, I don’t think you care. But I’m also choosing to move on and leave you behind, forever. Don’t text me, don’t call me, don’t ever contact me. Because you dug your own grave and it’s time you lay in it.
Feature image via Galore Mag