I wrote on this forum months ago as I was going through a break-up with my ex whom I slowly discovered had a serious drinking problem. After a mega-blowout where we went halfway psycho on me, we went through a short break-up, we got back together and I had high hopes things would be different. After a few months, we decided to move in together and right before we did a few things happened that were irreversible. His drinking was flaring up again in big ways and one night he lost his phone getting out of a cab. My neighbor found it, and returned it to my place. As I went to text his friend (whose house he was at already drinking mid-day), I saw some messages between them that really hurt and were so distorted to seem like I had been the bad guy or “crazy girlfriend” this whole time. He had told his friends his mother thought I was changing him in a bad way because he drank all the time and didn’t go to church much (he’s religious and I’m not). He has told his friend who lived across the street “he was going to rely on him for his freedom” which to me sounded like he was moving into a prison (he wasn’t- I pride myself on being a very cool, low maintenance, funny gal). Another one of his friends seemed to be gave him a hard time about us moving in together as well. Anyway, it hurt me really, really bad. I was a mess and felt like although I had been so kind, giving, and forgiving to him I was perceived as the bad person. For the entire time we dated I had been pursuing a degree in development work to simply improve the lives of others. I felt like everything was backwards.

So I tried to move past it and we talked it out, him telling me that none of it should matter because he loves me and the rest is noise. That whole week I was harboring these things I saw and felt and I was SO pissed at myself for deciding to move in with him. Things exploded as he came over one evening (again, had already been drinking) and we tried to go to dinner only to end in an argument and him leaving me mid-dinner like a total idiot in a restaurant. It was humiliating and infuriating and heartbreaking. There was no real justification for it other than him being irrational and erratic. He threatened to leave me with a newly-signed lease at a huge apartment I can’t pay for by myself. It was one of the worst weekends of my life. Even then, I took responsibility and apologized for whatever I thought I did to make him so mad and upset with me. He planned to again move in the following weekend, but alas drank the entire weekend and belittled me on why I was so mad at him again. I decided it had to end.

It’s been almost two months since we split. I know I had to make the decision, but of course my grief is heavy as I still loved him very much and felt more affection toward him than anyone I’ve ever been with. I loved so many things about him and the pain is overwhelming at times. But I’m writing today because I feel myself dwelling on such useless things–mostly wondering and simmering over the “story” and reasons he has told his friends and family for our break-up. We were different in some big ways, and I know he is using that as an excuse for his behavior as to why things ended, which is so unfair and painful. I keep wondering if his friends know how much he loved me or if he’s even acting like we broke up. He and his friends are the typical “bros” you might encounter at a football game and rarely talked about their feelings. I can see him going about his life like I was never in it, even though he wanted to marry me and was never, ever short on complimenting me and showing me love. It seems like he’ll never really feel the brunt of his actions or behavior and that’s what I feel like I can’t get past and keep dwelling on. I know love should be kind, and I should want to hope he’s happy and moving on, but it’s so painful to think about when I’m still so hurt. If I knew he was unhappy and his friends/family knew how much he loved me and misses me, it would provide some reassurance or relief, I guess. I know it’s stupid and useless to dwell on these types of things, but I can’t seem to move past it some days. I get stuck in these ruts of sadness and grief that nearly paralyze me. I know it will pass, but sometimes it feels like there’s no light.