It’s Called a Break-Up Because It’s Broken (Part 5)

Okay, finally finishing this series up, then it’s back to my normal blogging.  I’ve missed blogging, and am kind of glad this series is over, lol.  But it most certainly has helped me look a little deeper into myself and my relationships. 

Read Part One Here
Read Part Two Here
Read Part Three Here
Read Part Four Here

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So where did we leave off?  I finally got rid of E, with the help of M.  Now, I should have listened to the advice of many – you should never start anything serious with someone you meet in a bar/club.  But I was desperate.  I wanted to get out of that stupid “friendship” with E, and this was the perfect opportunity.  I remember that I didn’t even like M much in the first place.  But I needed attention, so I took it and ran with it. 

Our relationship started okay.  He is Hispanic as well, and his English was not very good.  It was really hard to understand him at times.  But he was sweet, and seemed like a romantic, which was a breath of fresh air.  We started spending a lot of time together, and I eventually grew pretty fond of him.  We spent every waking moment we could together, and I was actually starting to feel a little suffocated, but I didn’t let that bother me too much.  As long as I wasn’t alone, right?  Wrong.

All was fine and dandy.  I knew he had a son, but after stalking his Facebook (like every sane girlfriend does), I noticed some pictures of a little girl as well.  I started questioning him, and he eventually confessed that he had a son and a daughter (with his ex-wife – I’m glad it was with only 1 woman).  He didn’t tell me about his daughter, he said, because he was afraid to lose me.  Well, you’d think lying about it would turn me off, don’t you think?  I told him that if he has anything else to tell me, he better tell me at that time.  I didn’t want to find out about anything else "accidentally."  He told me there was nothing.

Wrong again.  One night, we had gone to the regular spot we always went to (a latin night club – I probably should have taken it as a bad sign that he knew practically every girl in that stupid place; but he introduced me to everyone as his girlfriend, so I shrugged it off).  We were heading upstairs to the main level, when all of a sudden a woman comes running at him and screaming.  She slapped him, and told me that he was her husband.  Lovely.  Apparently, he was separated, NOT divorced. 

I won’t go into detail, but you all know that stupid me forgave him, and we were together up until about a month ago.  Our relationship was a very rocky one.  There was a lot of emotional and verbal abuse (when he was angry with me).  A lot of times he called me fat, and said he wished that I looked like his ex wife.  It goes on, but I’d rather not go into too much detail.  There were also many times when I caught him on dating web sites saying he was single (which is laughable, seeing as he’s still going through his divorce – so he had a girlfriend AND a wife) and looking to have “fun.”  Whatever that meant.  To give him a little credit, he did stop after I found that out, but towards the end of our relationship he started up again.

There is a lot I didn’t get in to here, because I am still in frequent contact with him.  Oh hell, I might as well just confess and say that we have a full on “friends with benefits” relationship.  He says he wants to be single for a couple years – because he never got to enjoy his 20s, single.  I’d say he pretty much did, because I’m 100% certain he cheated on his ex-wife throughout their whole marriage.  And sorry, but if you don’t want to marry me now, you won’t want to marry me in two years.  What a lame ass excuse.

All of these relationships are really just an embarrassment to me.  An embarrassment because, really, for the past 8 or so years, I was in a relationship with someone who came to me while they were with someone else.  An embarrassment because I continued with these relationships, because I was too scared to be alone.  Too scared that I would never find someone to marry (kind of like I was so scared to go to prom alone – maybe that’s the only reason I tried so hard to find a boyfriend in the first place).  And most of all, I just wanted to find someone who thought I was enough.  I want to be enough for someone.  I have always felt like I haven’t been, even though my friends and family think the opposite – that I was too good for any of them.  Kind of twisted thinking on my part, don’t you think?

I can say, though, that I am getting better.  With every workout, and every run, I feel stronger.  I find that I really don’t care if M goes out without me.  If he finds someone else, well….too bad for that girl.  Now I just need to find the strength to leave permanently – before he gets to leave me first, for someone else.  I’m trying to be happy with me, to be happy alone.  Running is making that happen.  It may be happening painfully slow, but I’m stronger now than I ever have been.  And for that, I wouldn’t go back to change a thing.