Okay, so this is just to get all my frustration out and stuff. Hence the "rant" title..
Okay, so 2 months ago, I got out of my first ever relationship (yes, I'm 20, yes, it's a thing), where I broke it off with him, because he made me feel worse and worse by the week. We moved into an apartment together - granted, not the best choice when you've only been together 7 months - and every day, I was afraid to go back home, if I'd ever gotten outside in the first place. He was in school, and slowly I realized that I was fearing for when he got back home, because I knew there'd be something wrong, one way or the other, he'd find a way to yell in my face, because he didn't know how to properly get his feelings and frustrations out. And he wouldn't stop until one of us broke down crying. And whenever I told him "I can't handle you yelling at me like that, it's breaking me down" I'd get a response that sounded like this:
"I know, dear, and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, but it's because you look at me like that!" or something else, where it was because I "did something". So in the end, it was my fault. I would talk with his mom about it, and she'd say "Well, I see it's hard, but you just have to take responsibility for whatever it is you've done, and then make sure to fix it. He's got school and everything to take care of, so you should handle this." like it was my responsibility that he overreacted?
Like I said, I still loved him, despite his temper, because when it was good, it was amazing
! He would make me laugh, spent all his time and money on me, even though I didn't want him to. And every day, he'd tell me how I was the best thing to ever happen to him, how I was the reason he hadn't moved back to the Faeroe Islands (where he's originally from), and how I was the only light in his world.
But yeah, in the end, I broke it off, because I was slowly but steadily getting more and more mentally ill. Please pay attention to that part! I broke it off, because it was making me ill! Not because I stopped loving him! But because he wasn't good for me, and I could see that.
He gets a week to get out of the apartment, since it was in my name, and I paid for the whole shebang, and meanwhile, I was at my mom's, leaving him in peace to get his stuff.
I got NO calls, NO messages, no nothing. No "I'm sorry, please take me back!" no nothing.
When the week was almost over, I called him, to hear how far he was in the process, he first sounds surprised, like he wasn't expecting me to actually mean this. And when he found out that I was being serious, he started yelling. About how "cruel a person" a was, and how I was the most insensitive bitch on the planet, and how I only broke up because I couldn't think for myself, and my mom had told me to. I
was the bitch. I
was the mindless and insensitive one. He gets a few more days, and then gets out, but isn't able to move his things along with him, because he don't have anyone to come get them for him. (his family is in one part of the country, we live in the other part)
A lot of people told me to just "throw his stuff out" or "leave it outside the door, then he'll just have to hope it's still there when he comes to get it". But I didn't. I made my stepdad help me transport all of it, and brought it to him. And then when I see my ex - who had just the day before cursed me to hell - he is completely calm. And before I leave, he hugs me and says "It just wasn't meant to be. Not right now anyway, maybe in a couple of months, or after half a year. I think we just need a break from one another." and that's it. The person, who just cursed me out, now stands here comforting me, telling me it's alright.
I was, to put it mildly, confused. Because it was this side of him - the kind and loving one - that I fell in love with, and heck, am still in love with.
But despite this, whenever I called him later (because I kept finding stuff I had forgotten to pack for him) it would start the same way - I was a bitch, and everyone he talked to hated me. And then when he came to get his stuff, he'd have the nerve to stay over for an hour, to wait for his next train to go back to where he was living now. And before he left, he'd always leave saying "I love you". And I'd allow him, because I thought "This is okay. We can stay friends, and one day, he'll realize what he did was wrong and we can start anew!" and I thought so, because that was what he kept telling me! After we had had a break from one another, we could maybe make it work again!
Then one week ago, I find out that he's seeing someone else. Someone, whom I thought was my friend. And not only that, they started dating a little over a week after I broke up - the minute he stepped out from the apartment! WTF??! And neither of them had the decency to tell me. I know - I broke up, he doesn't owe me shit. But he's been coming here - in my home - filling me with shit and bending my mind, to think that I actually mattered to him! And then he finds a new chick only a week later?
Now this is not what frustrates me the most - heck, I didn't expect him to end up a monk after me, of course he'd move on eventually. Just maybe not AFTER A WEEK?!
No, what frustrates me the most is that, I wasn't worth calling. I wasn't worth trying to get back. I wasn't even worth a simple text message.
And whenever we saw each other, I'd ask him if he needed help with school - because I knew the breakup would be hard on him. I'd ask him if he needed me to go with him to the doctor - because I knew how scared he was to go alone.
So I asked around, among friends and family, and from most of them I get "But think about how he must be feeling".
He just pissed all over what we had, and me, he barely got to zip his pants before opening them up for another, and I'M supposed to consider HIS feelings?! And the "friend" told me off, she didn't want to be friends anymore because it would be "awkward". And I'M supposed to think about how SHE is feeling?! I'm supposed consider how sad and scared and confused she is - about how she might lose him! Yeah, right, fuck me in the ass before I'll think about that!
I feel really used and abused and tainted and filthy - because I let someone like that into my life. He was my first kiss, my first time and the first of a lot of things. And in the end, I didn't mean shit. Not anymore than I could be replaced the next week.
But no, in the end, I'm the bitch. I'm the evil and cruel and inconsiderate one.