Wednesday, July 25, 2012
It's surprising, sometimes, how easy it is to not care. You'd think that after being with someone for five years, there would still be feelings. But no. It is no more, and I can't even bring myself to care. I care more about the fact that he's being the biggest asshole on the planet regarding it, is playing the victim card without allowing me the decency of seeing that I might be able to call it myself, and he doesn't have to make a single change in his life. I have to find a job, find an apartment, and figure out if I'm continuing school. I also have to call off my wedding, return wedding presents, and explain to my mother that I'm not getting married. Some of these tasks are harder than others. :-P The sweet in the sour? He was out of town when most of the bullshit was happening, so all of our mutual friends heard about it from me. They got to see me fall apart, and hear about how he called the cops on me. He has lost a lot of friends through this. I didn't even know that some friends were more mine than his, I merely thought they were ours. He apparently doesn't trust me, thinks that I've used him as the sole emotional support, haven't made any attempt to work out my depression and anxiety issues, and then there's the emotional terrorism I employed this past week. I'll easily admit to emotional terrorism -- I tried asking for information nicely and politely (when he was coming home) and when I garnered no response, my texts and phone calls became wilder and wilder and more and more abusive. The emotional abuse and abandonment that he showed? Apparently, I'm not "allowed" to count it because "he didn't intend for it" whereas I've admitted to intending to hurt him. In the words of my friend J, I'm deeply disappointed in him. I just wish I could fast forward a year and not have to deal with this.