I would like to have what my mother-in-law has.
She has been with her boyfriend for a year, and they seem happy. They look worn-out, tired and stressed, but even after he comes out of the bathroom, he comes over to where she's sitting and rubs her shoulders if he thinks she looks tense. When all four of us are walking down the street, he holds her hand or puts his arm around her waist. Tom and I walk separately. He didn't even make an effort to pretend to look happy when we kept walking past his ex-boyfriend yesterday.
I added Tom on Facebook just to take a "How Well Do You Know Me?" quiz. I got just 80%, tying for best score. The two questions were either pertaining to his entire life before me or general stuff that he didn't talk about. He then took my quiz and got 60% (still the highest score). I felt weird keeping him as a friend, so I deleted him afterwards, as well as info about it in my profile news feed and a discussion he added to a thread on my profile. I suggested he did the same. That way his friends can talk about things uncensored without worrying that I'll butt in or be offended.
Keeping these things separate seemed like a perfect thing for me. Just like I won't pay his rent for him anymore, or share any kind of bank account or credit account. I want my dealings to be separate. If someone has a problem with him (like a neighbor), I won't have anything to do with it. His friends are not my friends, but they are such an important part of his life; they always have been and they always will be.
The sad thing about this is that it feels like I'm slowly slipping away. It's only been a little over a solid year of living together and we are already drifting apart. I noticed it when he would start to invent arguments out of nowhere (with an added twist, blaming them on me), then running off to be with his friends. He'd come back to eat or drink alcohol or sleep - i.e. things he knew were here waiting for him for free. He has one friend that regularly drops by, almost every day. He even came over on Thanksgiving.
If Tom and I are alone in the house watching TV, he won't even watch it. He will either sit on the computer and browse the internet, or play video games. It didn't used to be like this. I understand kicking back or going to hang out with a friend every once in a while, but the balance here is off. I am simply just a piece of furniture. If one of his friends says something funny, he will laugh out loud like he hasn't heard a joke in ten years. If I show him something funny, it's listless laughter, if anything. It's like he has no life in him when it comes to trying to enjoy himself with me. Even if I provide alcohol, it doesn't help. It just feels like I'm being used. After all, he believes he's entitled to using the computer I'm currently lending him.
As with most things I say, it's doubtful that he will read this, even though it's a public entry. But then, as if to spitefully prove me wrong, he might in fact just bother to skim it.
It's just sad that his friends, who have always been a fixture in his life, have been convinced with his stories to hate me or to just feel so indifferent that they will actually cheer on Facebook when we took each other off our friends lists, or outright say nasty things to me on the phone. The sad thing is is that I don't wage a hate campaign against him over the smallest thing. I've only been coming out with details of his abuse recently, because I've been fed up. But even my own friends aren't that narrow-minded to assume that someone who's been with me for 4 years would just be an unforgivable asshole. His friends have never given me the benefit of the doubt, and the sad thing is that I have to live around them, walk around town and see at least 3 or 4 of them every day, or see them in the cafés I go to or the cinemas I see movies at or the restaurants at which I go to eat.
When I go home I will be able to feel better about people who don't treat me as if I'm some virus that Tom needs to shake off. The worst part of this is is that I'm stuck between keeping out of the spotlight by being quiet and unassuming (so they'll think I'm cold/bitchy/judgemental/antisocial) or trying to interact with them (which will just mean that I'm trying too hard, or my personality will be too on display, showing how little I have in common with Tom and his friends).
His friends really are his family. And when I go home for good, they will be there to comfort him and to tell him that I was just a heartless bitch anyway, and that he will find someone way more "chill" soon.
I added Tom on Facebook just to take a "How Well Do You Know Me?" quiz. I got just 80%, tying for best score. The two questions were either pertaining to his entire life before me or general stuff that he didn't talk about. He then took my quiz and got 60% (still the highest score). I felt weird keeping him as a friend, so I deleted him afterwards, as well as info about it in my profile news feed and a discussion he added to a thread on my profile. I suggested he did the same. That way his friends can talk about things uncensored without worrying that I'll butt in or be offended.
Keeping these things separate seemed like a perfect thing for me. Just like I won't pay his rent for him anymore, or share any kind of bank account or credit account. I want my dealings to be separate. If someone has a problem with him (like a neighbor), I won't have anything to do with it. His friends are not my friends, but they are such an important part of his life; they always have been and they always will be.
The sad thing about this is that it feels like I'm slowly slipping away. It's only been a little over a solid year of living together and we are already drifting apart. I noticed it when he would start to invent arguments out of nowhere (with an added twist, blaming them on me), then running off to be with his friends. He'd come back to eat or drink alcohol or sleep - i.e. things he knew were here waiting for him for free. He has one friend that regularly drops by, almost every day. He even came over on Thanksgiving.
If Tom and I are alone in the house watching TV, he won't even watch it. He will either sit on the computer and browse the internet, or play video games. It didn't used to be like this. I understand kicking back or going to hang out with a friend every once in a while, but the balance here is off. I am simply just a piece of furniture. If one of his friends says something funny, he will laugh out loud like he hasn't heard a joke in ten years. If I show him something funny, it's listless laughter, if anything. It's like he has no life in him when it comes to trying to enjoy himself with me. Even if I provide alcohol, it doesn't help. It just feels like I'm being used. After all, he believes he's entitled to using the computer I'm currently lending him.
As with most things I say, it's doubtful that he will read this, even though it's a public entry. But then, as if to spitefully prove me wrong, he might in fact just bother to skim it.
It's just sad that his friends, who have always been a fixture in his life, have been convinced with his stories to hate me or to just feel so indifferent that they will actually cheer on Facebook when we took each other off our friends lists, or outright say nasty things to me on the phone. The sad thing is is that I don't wage a hate campaign against him over the smallest thing. I've only been coming out with details of his abuse recently, because I've been fed up. But even my own friends aren't that narrow-minded to assume that someone who's been with me for 4 years would just be an unforgivable asshole. His friends have never given me the benefit of the doubt, and the sad thing is that I have to live around them, walk around town and see at least 3 or 4 of them every day, or see them in the cafés I go to or the cinemas I see movies at or the restaurants at which I go to eat.
When I go home I will be able to feel better about people who don't treat me as if I'm some virus that Tom needs to shake off. The worst part of this is is that I'm stuck between keeping out of the spotlight by being quiet and unassuming (so they'll think I'm cold/bitchy/judgemental/antisocial) or trying to interact with them (which will just mean that I'm trying too hard, or my personality will be too on display, showing how little I have in common with Tom and his friends).
His friends really are his family. And when I go home for good, they will be there to comfort him and to tell him that I was just a heartless bitch anyway, and that he will find someone way more "chill" soon.