You hurt me

It’s not the break up, it’s what has happened since then that has destroyed me. And when I say I am destroyed, I am not being dramatic. I have cried every single day for 5 weeks. Some days, all I have done is cry. I am debilitated. I cannot sleep, eat, or properly function for basic household tasks. I pace trying to figure out what to do next, whether I should do anything at all. Should I go write from a coffee shop? Should I try to meet a friend? Call a friend? Should I go hiking? And leaving the house also means with certainty that I will cry in public instead of at home. If I stay at home, I will cry remembering the love we once shared in that space.

I try to find something to help the time pass until evening hits. Friends will be off work and maybe able to talk. If not, I can go to a bar alone. Maybe there’s a fun event I could attend alone? I should probably work in the yard, but I don’t want to. I am mad that I am forever responsible for taking care of the yard alone–mowing, weeding, planting, mulching. All of it is forever my responsibility.

That reminds me that the house is solely my responsibility, too. I have to clean, repair, and improve everything inside and out. I need a new garbage disposal and a new outside light. The deck needs to be repaired. The fence needs to be power washed and treated. The ceiling in Bubba’s room was never fixed, nor was the ceiling in the hallway. Sooner than later the kitchen will need to be renovated as will the master bath. Who’s paying for this? This house was never meant to be the physical or financial responsibility of one person. Yet, here I am forced to take care of it all by myself.

I have to care for the animals. Lammy B and Piepsi are keeping me alive, but these precious babies also require time, attention, and care. They have daily needs and a schedule. I have to make sure they get fed. Lammy needs his walks. Piepsi needs playtime. They don’t want to be left alone for long periods of time. I make sure to give them as much as I can. However, considering my mental state they are just getting slightly above the minimum.

As I think about all of the responsibility that plagues me, I cannot forget that I didn’t choose to be in this situation. She made the decision that she needed less and forced me to have to do more. It makes me bitter, very angry. Why does she get freedom and peace, and I get more burden? She is living free, untethered, and untangled. That is not fair. I repeat that sentence over and over and over again. It’s a mantra that I wish I didn’t have.

She promised that if I moved back into the house, we would be on the forever bus together. Then, she promised that she wouldn’t leave the country if we adopted Lammy. Then as she left, she promised to stay together despite the temporary distance. A year later I asked her to be my wife. She accepted my proposal, another promise, and she didn’t tell a single person in her family. It was not the joyous moment I had wanted. And it turned out to be the end for us. Nothing was ever the same. We dragged on for another year to give her enough time to break every promise to me, begin building her life in Switzerland, and prepare for the day she would cut me out.

She took away my partner of 6.5 years, my best friend of nearly 7 years, and my only family member. I lost everything, and she didn’t have to go a single day without. She held on to me until her first date that turned into the only date she needed to be convinced this was her forever person. She could no longer hold any space for me.

For 7 years I listened as she reminded me that she wasn’t a lesbian, that she would probably end up with a man, and the only way she could have a child is with a man in a traditional family. I heard her say these things, and they hurt me each time. Somehow, though, I didn’t believe her. I was sure she was a lesbian and just not comfortable in her own skin. Nevertheless as we faced the last months of our relationship, she was determined that she desperately wanted a child, the only dream she had ever had. And, of course, this meant we would go our separate ways so that she could find that man who would give her what she wanted more than anything.

Despite the promise to tell each other when we were ready to date (another promise conveniently broken), she secretly went on a dating app looking for men and didn’t receive the immediate attention she expected. Without any conversation with me or anyone else, she switched her dating preference to women and matched with someone in her city who was her age and who also loved soccer. 

All those years listening to her talk about her men prepared me for her next chapter to be a man. It was the one thing I could not give her, and I never wanted to stand in her way of having a child. I came to terms with it as we decided to not move forward as a couple. I made peace with her future, the one she told me she was pursuing. I felt like this was a circumstance that would allow us to remain in each other’s lives. I envisioned us removing the romantic piece and really nurturing our bff status.

When she told me she was “seeing someone” after just one date, I felt sick. I knew this day would come, but I didn’t expect it to be serious when I didn’t even know she had even committed to dating yet. The shock of her telling me the person was a woman and not a man, instantly flipped my entire world upside down. All along, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to be with me because I wasn’t a man. The truth is, she never really wanted to be with me. Her identity wasn’t the obstacle I said it was. Her body image and self-esteem were not hindering her from intimacy. She always wanted out, but never knew how to escape. 

The last 7 years are now so confusing to me. What were they really? Did I create an alternative universe where we were happy, in love, and attracted to each other. Her moods were showing me who she was, and I didn’t believe her. She fully moved on within two weeks of meeting this woman (at the time of writing this, they have known each other just 6 weeks), and I was erased. Apparently she no longer needs her best friend nor her family because I was instantly replaced. She transferred all of her attention and energy to this one person, basically overnight.

Meanwhile I am in our house with our things, with our pets, with our memories. I sit in despair and pools of tears, overwhelmed by the heaviness and the loneliness. I have no safety net because that was the important role she played for me. And since I do not have any biological family, I am alone with grief and fear. I am alone and no longer know who I am and where I belong. I didn't choose this. It was chosen for me.

Girl, you hurt me.