Fight with all your strength against evil, but never defy or offend its
pride for it will only give it more power.
Anónimo ha dicho: A
Why my last relationship ended:
My last relationship was my first real relationship. I met this person and I fell so incredibly fucking hard for them. Harder than I fell for anyone else. I had never met anyone like this person I can’t even begin to describe to you how they made me feel. It was easily one of the best feelings I’ve ever felt. At least that’s how it was in the beginning. This was all really new for both of us and I don’t think we knew what we were doing, or at least I can say that for myself. We talked for three months and then started dating. I think a lot of things were rushed in the beginning and I wasn’t completely sure if I was ready to be in a relationship yet. But this person made me feel incredibly comfortable, and that’s rare for me to find. They treated me so fucking well. Better than anyone else. I meant the world to this person, probably not anymore but at the time I did. And for a while they were my world. But then I realized that I was getting in too deep for my liking and I panicked and started to doubt everything, I didn’t know what to do. I was confused and unsure of a lot of things going on in my life, with very good reason. But things started to get bad, we were fighting a lot, and most of the time it was over little things that weren’t a big deal to me. They might have been big for them and I’m too stubborn a lot of the time to realize I’m in the wrong so I put the blame on them. However, we were two completely different people. And I could see that early on. But I just kept thinking through the whole relationship that the doubts would go away and everything would get better. I ignored it. That’s where I went wrong. I ignored a huge problem. When we would fight the usual “Do you even care? Do you even want me, do you want this?” questions came up and I didn’t know what to say. That should have been a huge red flag. But I cared too much about this person that I fell so hard for that I didn’t want I see them get hurt. I didn’t want to hurt them. So I did what I thought I had to do to make them happy. But I realize that making them happy would have been for me to be happy. Which I wasn’t after a while. I started to realize that this wasn’t love. I didn’t even know what love was, and I still don’t. I realized that I didn’t want to be in love because I didn’t want that much power or control over someone to have such an influence on their entire life. We made plans together that would have been long term and would have required commitment, which I understand every relationship needs commitment. It’s not like I wasn’t committed to them, I was. I just didn’t know for how long. I wasn’t looking for anything long term and I realized that too late. This is when things were getting really bad. And I was realizing that as much as I cared for them, it wasn’t fair for either of us to be in this relationship if we both weren’t giving it our all. Especially the other person. They were giving 100% and I knew I wasn’t. That wasn’t okay. But when it came down to it I didn’t have the balls to be honest about my feelings because I didn’t want to hurt them. And I had this realization a few times before we actually ended it. Each time ignoring the problem. Until towards the downfall of our relationship I couldn’t ignore it anymore. We had gone on a trip and of course we got into a fight, which I take all the blame for. We were fighting because of some things me and a friend had joked around about saying (getting another persons nudes ect). It was wrong and I know it was. I fucked up, bad. And I was also liking other people’s pictures on Instagram and tumblr and like I said I wasn’t giving the relationship my all. I wasn’t happy anymore. But I stayed anyway, and I stayed because I cared. I just didn’t care about them the same way I had in the beginning anymore. So we were fighting and we were sitting in the bathtub of the hotel, both of us broken down, and they were trying to figure out what was wrong. They confronted me about it and this time I couldn’t avoid it. I couldn’t ignore the doubt. All of this could not have happened at a worse time. I was with their family on a trip thousands of miles away from home and we still had a few days left. I panicked and I just had to tell them that I didn’t want it anymore. I didn’t want any of it. And that was one of the hardest things. Telling the person you once cared about most that you don’t want them anymore. That killed me. And I know it killed them. I felt like the absolute shittiest human being on the fucking planet. And I was. What I did was beyond fucked up. It’s not like I played them, intentionally at least. It sucked. So now I ruined the trip and I ruined this person. I wanted nothing more than to go home and be with my sister because she was one of the only people who could make me feel better but she was in Rome at the time on a completely different fucking continent. So the rest of the trip I wanted to die. I got obliterated drunk every night so I wouldn’t have to deal with it until I could go home. We finally got home, talked about everything, and then went our separate ways. I told them that I wanted time to think about everything and I needed a break, but I knew I wasn’t coming back. I mean I had already hurt them enough I didn’t want to do anymore damage. And I’ll admit after we broke up I did a lot of shit I said I wouldn’t do, I went crazy. I talked to a ton of other people and I was just being insanely stupid. But after dating for nine months I had so much freedom I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t realize how much I was suffocating until I got out of that relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I wasted my time but I definitely felt like they were holding me back in some ways. But ending that relationship was the most liberating feeling, I felt so free. But I also still felt this terrible guilt. But I just had to let it go and move on. That’s part of life. People change and people get hurt. It’s inevitable. We had a lot of firsts with each other and it was great but I think we both knew it was time to let go. I did some childish shit when I went to go pick my stuff up at their house but I was just feeling really resentful and angry about the whole thing that I didn’t care. I brought a person with me who they despised to pick up my shit. But they also did some shit like talking to people I hated so I didn’t feel bad about it. Still don’t. Now, it’s a little over a month since we broke up and almost a year since we met and it’s insane how much has changed.
It’s a long summary, but it was just lust. I don’t even know what love is and I don’t want to. I don’t want to be in love and I don’t want someone to fall in love with me. Because I’m not the kind of person you want to fall in love with.
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