Right, so da big talk last night started out ok, we settled at a nice bar and managed a bit of chit-chat on the terrace. But then, I’m still not sure why, it all went horribly wrong. A bit like a deadly miniature replica of our entire history, really…
I ended up hearing the worst, most hurtful things T has ever uttered, and even though I am pretty sure hurting me wasn’t actually on his agenda, I am left shell-shocked and devastated, back to square one, only worse.
I am now scared of the man who used to share my life, as all I seem to get from him is pain. While I am not pretending to think straight after a sleepless night, I now see him at best as a mutant lacking the empathy gene, at worse as a psycho who is unwittingly going to destroy my children after destroying me.
He just does not seem to realise the pain he is causing, and keeps an ever-expanding tab of all my faults and mistakes.
And so I heard how I had always suffocated and dominated him, how he desperately tried to talk to me but I didn’t change (was I supposed to?), didn’t understand him and kept hurting him, how I cruelly belittled him and prevented him from becoming a fully fledged dad and step-dad, how things were so bad he had no choice but to leave me lest he topped himself off, how we had our daughter too quickly, and the crown jewel: How the children are so much happier with him now than when we were together. Now how can someone so clever be so blind to their children’s suffering is beyond me.
He said we’re just different because he felt like one thing one day but had no idea what he’d want six months down the line, let alone in 20 years. Quite frankly, I wish I’d known that detail before I had his child…
And we are also different because he believes he has really tried everything to make us work, without involving me in this great effort of course. No kidding, we sure are different then. Because for me, “I will never let you down, I will always be there for you” kind of meant always, as in longer than 2 and a half years…
The fact that the circumstances we were thrown into were so harsh, they would have shaken the strongest of relationships is irrelevant to him, when it means everything to me. I still don’t think there was anything horribly wrong between us, and I am still looking for the insurmountable incompatibility he sees (might have to get the microscope out).
One last detail, there is apparently a new Ms T on the horizon, who is probably hearing all about what a witch I have been and how miserable he was with me. She is probably thinking poor man, at least I can make him happy now. Ghosh, that was me three years ago! I am sure she is a nice unsuspecting woman, and I just want to warn her, to tell her to protect herself.
I just could not sleep at all last night as T’s words embedded themselves into my brain like shrapnel. I had heard about the fact that people tore everything up into confetti during and after break-ups, but never truly realised the meaning of this until last night. Our future is wiped-out, the present is best forgotten, and even our past is a pile of smoking ashes. The beautiful, rare and strong connection I was proud to be half of existed only in my mind.
To all of you going through or having been through difficult break-ups, how do you come to terms with this level of destruction?
This morning, my beautiful children cuddled me hard as I couldn’t hide my distress, and my son even made me breakfast in bed: They are the sweetest children, and I am so glad to have them. They deserve better.