He was the most amazing man I ever knew.
He was a complete gentleman: caring, kind and supportive. He was always there for me in my best and worst times. I was so lucky to have him and believed I would never find anyone better than him. I loved him so much, but there were times when I dreaded the thought of living without him. I needed to feel his presence all the time – in any possible way.
By my side, on the phone, or even over text.
Sometimes, he didn’t text me back and I wondered why.
We were fine the day before, but where was he now? There were a lot of things going on in my head – was he ignoring me? Was he abandoning me? I started spiraling, assuming the worst: that he was ghosting me.
I kept overthinking as I waited for hours, hoping to hear the phone ring or for his name to appear on my screen. But still – nothing.
I needed to call him. So I cracked and starting dialing his number, over and over. I tried to reach him after a few hours, to no avail. Where was he? Didn’t he hear his phone ringing? I’m sure he could, even if he was asleep.
He should at least answer, just once.
He finally did in the end. But he was furious and annoyed. The moment he raised his irritated voice, I jolted in shock.
But… what did I do? I was confused.
I missed him so much, couldn’t he understand that? I thought he understood me well! He knew I was highly sensitive but still, he raised his voice. Coming from someone I loved, it broke my heart. I couldn’t help but cry.
Thank God, he finally understood how hurtful he was being. So he stopped.
But the same scenario played out over and over again.
I hated that he put his business above everything else, even me. Was I not important to him? Why couldn’t he make me his first priority? How hard was it to text or call me, at least once in a while?
But I loved him so much, I was willing to put up with it.
He was supportive, but it wasn’t enough. I needed him to be there and hear about my problems. I needed him to understand how miserable my life was – that I hated my family, my dad for leaving us, my friends for putting me down all the time.
But he didn’t want to listen. All he did was lecture me to be grateful for having everything I needed.
It was tiring, listening to that. That wasn’t the support I wanted.
Couldn’t he understand that I just needed to pour my heart out?
But again, I loved him. Too much to lose him. So I tried to keep my mouth shut, to no avail.
Time and again, the cycle restarted.
It crushed me every time we broke up.
And we did.
Many times. Time after time, he couldn’t be patient with me. It was always painful to hear him say, “I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.”
I was so shattered.
I needed him to understand how much I loved him. I sent him a long text after that. I left him an emotional voicemail, my voice shaking as I sobbed, telling him how I felt.
It was a cycle that fed my heart, even as it broke me.
Because in the end, he came back to me. Every time. I knew he would, eventually. He still cared for me.
Until the day it all changed. We had had a big fight. For some reason, this was the last straw for him. He walked away.
But before that, he finally told me the awful truth:
“I’m tired of your bullshit. All this time, you made everything about you. It’s always about you. You played the victim and were negative all the time. You’re selfish and toxic!”
I was utterly shocked. His words felt like hundreds of daggers being stabbed into my chest and twisted. My heart stopped and I painfully gasped.
I was too numb. I couldn’t run to him and ask him to stay.
He blocked me on social media. Blocked my phone number. I couldn’t reach him. He hated me so much, he moved away not long after that.
For days, I obsessed over the last things he said to me. It took me a while to realize the truth: that he was right.
I was exactly what he said.
The whole time, I had mentally abused him, manipulated his emotions, made him feel guilty of things that weren’t his fault.
The fault was all mine.
It’s been two years since all of this happened. In that time, I’ve changed.
I stopped being pessimistic. Started to focus more on positive things. Instead of complaining, I began to try and make the best of everything, even if things weren’t going well. I learned how to be grateful, how to forgive people – how to forgive myself, too.
I hope he’d forgive me too if I had the chance to know. I will never know as I haven’t heard any news about him since that day, but I still hope.