It's Over
We made it about a year and a month. And now it's over. It ended horribly. I keep thinking about what I could've done differently, as I sit here, nauseous, on my parents' couch. I keep wondering if I should've just made him feel good about everything, not pushed him, not cared as much when he lied, understood that he was doing it because he didn't know what else to do. He's a child, though. He has everything handed to him, and he played house with me when I tried to build a life with him.
And now I'm here, back at my parents', where I had to come because he told me he was an idiot for wanting me to stay and wanting for us to work out, when I was having a panic attack about $5k I have to pay in taxes. And I told him I would get out of his life as soon as possible. And I cried to my mother, and she came with a UHaul the next day, and all of my stuff was packed up, and my home was no longer my home.
I feel so broken, so sad. Wondering why i'm in my parents' house and not sleeping in the bed with him, wondering why he's not keeping me warm - wondering why he's not warm toward me anymore. Wondering why it seems like all he wants now is my money.
And now I'm here, back at my parents', where I had to come because he told me he was an idiot for wanting me to stay and wanting for us to work out, when I was having a panic attack about $5k I have to pay in taxes. And I told him I would get out of his life as soon as possible. And I cried to my mother, and she came with a UHaul the next day, and all of my stuff was packed up, and my home was no longer my home.
I feel so broken, so sad. Wondering why i'm in my parents' house and not sleeping in the bed with him, wondering why he's not keeping me warm - wondering why he's not warm toward me anymore. Wondering why it seems like all he wants now is my money.