Dealing with Break Up of Long-Term Relationship
So, things are basically terrible right now and I'm not sure where to begin. I warn you that this will be long.
My boyfriend of almost six years broke up with me three days ago. I'm reeling. I'm devastated and in shock, but it didn't come out of nowhere and it wasn't entirely unexpected. I'm obviously still trying to come to terms with the loss (I really feel like I've lost a body part), but I'm really struggling with not calling him and with dealing with my panic over having to start all over again at 29 (which I know is still young, but when most of my friends are already married and planning on starting families, I feel incredibly alone and like I've failed at life).
Anyways, our six years together has been both incredible and difficult. I met him when I was 23 and he was 22 and we became inseparable almost instantly. We fell in love very, very quickly. We were both positive that we would eventually get married and be together forever.
About a year into the relationship, he developed some health issues related to his anxiety (he's a very high stress person). It was stressful for both us, especially since every medical test he had to determine what was wrong came back normal. It left him reeling because he was in pain but couldn't figure out why or how to fix it (he was suffering from near constant abdominal pain that interfered with his ability to go out and do things). Our sex life came to a near stand still because of it. After his health got a little better, I have to admit that I started to feel less attracted to him. I still loved him and valued what we had, but all those months of him breaking down and lashing out and needing me to look after him (he could be needy and demanding) kind of hurt our sexual relationship. I sometimes felt more like his mother and found his way of dealing with things to be somewhat childish.
But like I said, I valued our really close companionship and thought it made everything worth it. We had a lot of trust, we communicated very honesty and effectively, we had a lot in common and really understood each other. Despite the difficulties, our relationship was actually pretty easy a majority of the time. Not a lot of bullshit, not a lot of uncertainty (my two prior relationships, which were both very short) were overwhelmed by both.
That said, the year or so of health problems took its toll. While sex was still satisfying overall, we fought a lot about how little I wanted to have it. He was also a difficult person who had a tendency to be moody and hard to please. I sometimes wouldn't be honest about my problems with his personality and behaviour because I didn't want to deal with my doubts about our compatibility. I still loved him and was comfortable with him and really did see a future with him.
We basically had ups and downs. We would go through rough patches where we would fight constantly, but we'd always communicate and talk things through and come to a resolution. We were always the best of friends. There was never anything off limits for discussion and I felt really safe and comfortable with him (and vice versa, I think).
Anyways, a little over a year ago he moved to China for a year to study Mandarin for his PhD. Before he left, he was a wreck. He didn't want to leave me (and I couldn't go because I had to work because I've been saving for a condo for us - another contentious issue that I'll get to in a bit) and became extremely anxious and distraught. He said he was terrified I would leave him and wouldn't miss him while he was gone. We both cried hysterically at the airport when I dropped him off. He said that, when he got back and was on his way to getting his doctorate and a job, we would get engaged and get a place together.
During the trip, things really changed. Near the tail end of his time there, we started fighting constantly. Every time we would Skype, we would fight. His PhD research started falling apart and he began panicking that he wouldn't get his degree or a job. He said he wasn't in a place where he and I could make any long-term plans. Every time we'd talk, I'd bring up how I wanted to move forward with our relationship (like, at least move in together or plan to now that we had been together for over five years and were in our late 20s), and he started to say that he felt like he was failing me and that he was ruining my life because his was spiralling out of control and he was taking me with him. He said (for the first time ever) that he had serious doubts about our future together and didn't think we were on the same page anymore. I was in total denial and kept saying we'd fix it and it would get better and he'd figure out his school and work situation and we'd move forward.
One night, back in the summer, we fought for over an hour on Skype and I told him (in anger, I didn't mean it) that he'd ruined my life and wasted almost six years of my time and he started crying and broke up with me. I was in shock and went into hysterics and told him couldn't mean it and begged him to reconsider. I got off Skype and he called me right back and said he still wanted to try to make it work and that he couldn't let go yet.
A week later he got home and we had two difficult weeks before things started to feel normal again. We were fighting a lot less, doing the kind of things we always enjoyed as a couple (going to some favourite restaurants, watching favourite movies and shows, etc). But we were not having sex. At all. He told me that, since our huge fight and mini-break up, he was having trouble thinking about being physically intimate with me (although he was still very affectionate and we kissed and cuddled a lot). That really shook me.
Back in late September, he kinda/sorta tried to end things again at a restaurant. I had a full-blown panic attack and he, once again, reconsidered and said I was his best friend and a member of his family and he didn't want to live a life without me in it. That one was hard to recover from and I told him I didn't trust him anymore. He said he'd do anything to win my trust back and that we'd just keeping working at it. He did say that, despite his willingness to keep working at it, he was no longer sure we'd get through this. He said he had good days and bad, and somedays he felt good about us and other days he felt like it was only a matter of time before we'd have to admit it wasn't going to work.
I noticed him inviting me to his house less often and asked if he was trying to distance me from his family. He said he wasn't, he just preferred to come to my place. We used to sleep at each other's places two to three nights a week before he left, but now were sleeping (as in just sleeping - there was no sex) together once a week or even once every other week.
I just felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and it was killing me. I asked if he still wanted to live together and eventually get married, and he said he did, but that he wasn't in a place to think about it.
Anyways, cut to this past Thursday. He came over and we went to a yoga class and then out for dinner. He was acting weird. In the car on the way back to my house, I laid into him and told him I knew he wasn't feeling any better about us and that he needed to make a decision immediately. We were both crying and freaking out. He then said that he didn't want to end things, but that he really wasn't feeling better about us and that he didn't know if he ever would. He said that, since our first break-up, he wasn't feeling attracted to me and was starting to believe that we were only staying together because we were so used to each other and afraid of being alone after investing so much time in one another.
Well, hearing that was horrible and I screamed at him to leave and ran into my house. He followed me and I just kept asking him and over and over again if he was truly serious and if he was actually ending things for real. I really, really expected him to reconsider and say no. He just said he was serious and that he wanted "to end things on good terms and stay in each other's lives." I lost it at that and said he could be my boyfriend or he could be a stranger and accept that this was the last time we'd ever see each other or talk. He said he needed to at least stay friends, and I threw my purse at him (not directly at him, more in his general direction, it didn't hit him) and screamed at him to leave my house. Much to my surprise, he did. I followed him half-way to his car, thinking he'd turn back, but he got in and drove off. Just...drove off.
Needless to say, I'm not doing well.
We've spoken very briefly by text once since the break up. He said talking to me was too hard and too painful and he was worried I would lash out and say mean things that he wasn't ready to hear. He said he'd mail me my shit back (that had me crying BUCKETS) and that I could come by at some point and say goodbye to his parents and dogs (that had me fucking hyperventilating like a crazy person). I was terse and told him I didn't want my shit back and he could throw it out. I also cruelly wished him good luck dealing with his bullshit by himself. He stopped responding.
Now I just have no idea how to deal with all of this. I desperately want to call him (and I cry every time I wonder why he hasn't called me yet because we talked every single day for six years and this is all just so shocking), but I know I can't. My friends and family have been extremely loving and supportive and have told me that calling will likely only make things worse because he either won't answer or just reiterate that it's over. But every time I'm alone, I'm so, so tempted to call or text him. I am actually worried about him because he hasn't been doing well for months and I think, regardless of the fact that he wanted this, that it must be hurting him a little. It was so many years and we truly were best friends.
I also feel like I can't quite accept it's over. I can't bring myself to throw out his toothbrush or put away all the reminders. I have literally hundreds of pictures of us together on Facebook and I can't delete them. He's bought me dozens of presents (jewellery, clothes, stuffed animals, cute dishes, etc) over the years and I can't stand to look at them or hide them away.
During our relationship, I got really close with his friends and family and I'm so sad to lose them.
I also feel so scared when I think about eventually moving on and dating again. I'm 29-years-old and I still live at home with my parents (because I was saving for a condo and waiting for him to get his stuff together). Who would want someone like that? Almost all of my friends are married now and I feel so, so inadequate and like such a horrendous failure.
I'm sorry for the epic length of this post. I guess I just want to know where to begin. To anyone who's been through this, how did you cope and when did you start to feel better? Why isn't he calling me to check to see if I'm okay? How do I accept this and move on?
Any help is appreciated.
My boyfriend of almost six years broke up with me three days ago. I'm reeling. I'm devastated and in shock, but it didn't come out of nowhere and it wasn't entirely unexpected. I'm obviously still trying to come to terms with the loss (I really feel like I've lost a body part), but I'm really struggling with not calling him and with dealing with my panic over having to start all over again at 29 (which I know is still young, but when most of my friends are already married and planning on starting families, I feel incredibly alone and like I've failed at life).
Anyways, our six years together has been both incredible and difficult. I met him when I was 23 and he was 22 and we became inseparable almost instantly. We fell in love very, very quickly. We were both positive that we would eventually get married and be together forever.
About a year into the relationship, he developed some health issues related to his anxiety (he's a very high stress person). It was stressful for both us, especially since every medical test he had to determine what was wrong came back normal. It left him reeling because he was in pain but couldn't figure out why or how to fix it (he was suffering from near constant abdominal pain that interfered with his ability to go out and do things). Our sex life came to a near stand still because of it. After his health got a little better, I have to admit that I started to feel less attracted to him. I still loved him and valued what we had, but all those months of him breaking down and lashing out and needing me to look after him (he could be needy and demanding) kind of hurt our sexual relationship. I sometimes felt more like his mother and found his way of dealing with things to be somewhat childish.
But like I said, I valued our really close companionship and thought it made everything worth it. We had a lot of trust, we communicated very honesty and effectively, we had a lot in common and really understood each other. Despite the difficulties, our relationship was actually pretty easy a majority of the time. Not a lot of bullshit, not a lot of uncertainty (my two prior relationships, which were both very short) were overwhelmed by both.
That said, the year or so of health problems took its toll. While sex was still satisfying overall, we fought a lot about how little I wanted to have it. He was also a difficult person who had a tendency to be moody and hard to please. I sometimes wouldn't be honest about my problems with his personality and behaviour because I didn't want to deal with my doubts about our compatibility. I still loved him and was comfortable with him and really did see a future with him.
We basically had ups and downs. We would go through rough patches where we would fight constantly, but we'd always communicate and talk things through and come to a resolution. We were always the best of friends. There was never anything off limits for discussion and I felt really safe and comfortable with him (and vice versa, I think).
Anyways, a little over a year ago he moved to China for a year to study Mandarin for his PhD. Before he left, he was a wreck. He didn't want to leave me (and I couldn't go because I had to work because I've been saving for a condo for us - another contentious issue that I'll get to in a bit) and became extremely anxious and distraught. He said he was terrified I would leave him and wouldn't miss him while he was gone. We both cried hysterically at the airport when I dropped him off. He said that, when he got back and was on his way to getting his doctorate and a job, we would get engaged and get a place together.
During the trip, things really changed. Near the tail end of his time there, we started fighting constantly. Every time we would Skype, we would fight. His PhD research started falling apart and he began panicking that he wouldn't get his degree or a job. He said he wasn't in a place where he and I could make any long-term plans. Every time we'd talk, I'd bring up how I wanted to move forward with our relationship (like, at least move in together or plan to now that we had been together for over five years and were in our late 20s), and he started to say that he felt like he was failing me and that he was ruining my life because his was spiralling out of control and he was taking me with him. He said (for the first time ever) that he had serious doubts about our future together and didn't think we were on the same page anymore. I was in total denial and kept saying we'd fix it and it would get better and he'd figure out his school and work situation and we'd move forward.
One night, back in the summer, we fought for over an hour on Skype and I told him (in anger, I didn't mean it) that he'd ruined my life and wasted almost six years of my time and he started crying and broke up with me. I was in shock and went into hysterics and told him couldn't mean it and begged him to reconsider. I got off Skype and he called me right back and said he still wanted to try to make it work and that he couldn't let go yet.
A week later he got home and we had two difficult weeks before things started to feel normal again. We were fighting a lot less, doing the kind of things we always enjoyed as a couple (going to some favourite restaurants, watching favourite movies and shows, etc). But we were not having sex. At all. He told me that, since our huge fight and mini-break up, he was having trouble thinking about being physically intimate with me (although he was still very affectionate and we kissed and cuddled a lot). That really shook me.
Back in late September, he kinda/sorta tried to end things again at a restaurant. I had a full-blown panic attack and he, once again, reconsidered and said I was his best friend and a member of his family and he didn't want to live a life without me in it. That one was hard to recover from and I told him I didn't trust him anymore. He said he'd do anything to win my trust back and that we'd just keeping working at it. He did say that, despite his willingness to keep working at it, he was no longer sure we'd get through this. He said he had good days and bad, and somedays he felt good about us and other days he felt like it was only a matter of time before we'd have to admit it wasn't going to work.
I noticed him inviting me to his house less often and asked if he was trying to distance me from his family. He said he wasn't, he just preferred to come to my place. We used to sleep at each other's places two to three nights a week before he left, but now were sleeping (as in just sleeping - there was no sex) together once a week or even once every other week.
I just felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop and it was killing me. I asked if he still wanted to live together and eventually get married, and he said he did, but that he wasn't in a place to think about it.
Anyways, cut to this past Thursday. He came over and we went to a yoga class and then out for dinner. He was acting weird. In the car on the way back to my house, I laid into him and told him I knew he wasn't feeling any better about us and that he needed to make a decision immediately. We were both crying and freaking out. He then said that he didn't want to end things, but that he really wasn't feeling better about us and that he didn't know if he ever would. He said that, since our first break-up, he wasn't feeling attracted to me and was starting to believe that we were only staying together because we were so used to each other and afraid of being alone after investing so much time in one another.
Well, hearing that was horrible and I screamed at him to leave and ran into my house. He followed me and I just kept asking him and over and over again if he was truly serious and if he was actually ending things for real. I really, really expected him to reconsider and say no. He just said he was serious and that he wanted "to end things on good terms and stay in each other's lives." I lost it at that and said he could be my boyfriend or he could be a stranger and accept that this was the last time we'd ever see each other or talk. He said he needed to at least stay friends, and I threw my purse at him (not directly at him, more in his general direction, it didn't hit him) and screamed at him to leave my house. Much to my surprise, he did. I followed him half-way to his car, thinking he'd turn back, but he got in and drove off. Just...drove off.
Needless to say, I'm not doing well.
We've spoken very briefly by text once since the break up. He said talking to me was too hard and too painful and he was worried I would lash out and say mean things that he wasn't ready to hear. He said he'd mail me my shit back (that had me crying BUCKETS) and that I could come by at some point and say goodbye to his parents and dogs (that had me fucking hyperventilating like a crazy person). I was terse and told him I didn't want my shit back and he could throw it out. I also cruelly wished him good luck dealing with his bullshit by himself. He stopped responding.
Now I just have no idea how to deal with all of this. I desperately want to call him (and I cry every time I wonder why he hasn't called me yet because we talked every single day for six years and this is all just so shocking), but I know I can't. My friends and family have been extremely loving and supportive and have told me that calling will likely only make things worse because he either won't answer or just reiterate that it's over. But every time I'm alone, I'm so, so tempted to call or text him. I am actually worried about him because he hasn't been doing well for months and I think, regardless of the fact that he wanted this, that it must be hurting him a little. It was so many years and we truly were best friends.
I also feel like I can't quite accept it's over. I can't bring myself to throw out his toothbrush or put away all the reminders. I have literally hundreds of pictures of us together on Facebook and I can't delete them. He's bought me dozens of presents (jewellery, clothes, stuffed animals, cute dishes, etc) over the years and I can't stand to look at them or hide them away.
During our relationship, I got really close with his friends and family and I'm so sad to lose them.
I also feel so scared when I think about eventually moving on and dating again. I'm 29-years-old and I still live at home with my parents (because I was saving for a condo and waiting for him to get his stuff together). Who would want someone like that? Almost all of my friends are married now and I feel so, so inadequate and like such a horrendous failure.
I'm sorry for the epic length of this post. I guess I just want to know where to begin. To anyone who's been through this, how did you cope and when did you start to feel better? Why isn't he calling me to check to see if I'm okay? How do I accept this and move on?
Any help is appreciated.