Because I was an instigator of a really crappy break-up, and I'm suffering for it.
I'm sorry that I'm a new poster and I'm already making my first post looking for advice, but I'm pretty much at my wit's end. If anything can be learned from my stupidity, that'd be great, too.
I should supply some background: I was in a two year-plus relationship with someone. It was awesome. Our arguments were mild and rare, we were both affectionate and intimate, we had similar interests, and we enjoyed doing things together. It was long-distance for most of those two years, but I went out and visited him as much as I could, and he did his best to make me feel like royalty when I was there. We talked on the phone frequently, and he did his best to help me as much as he could when I was in a bind. Was it perfect? No. There were flaws -- I was more of a neatnik than he was, and we had differing spiritual views. These weren't things we fought about, though, and we both just took it as granted that there were going to be things we wouldn't be in exact agreement on. I know I did things to annoy him.
Some time before I met him, however, I'd just gotten out of a long-term, long-distance relationship that went sour and never had anything become of it. I'd been crushed and never wanted to feel like that again. So about a year and a half into the new relationship, I got scared that things were going to go the same way. I cheated on him with a guy I'd dated years ago, because I thought it would prove I was fooling myself, and that I could feel the same way about someone else. I tried replacing him because I just didn't want to deal with the pain brought on by long-distance separation for months at a time.
Only... it didn't work. All that came of it was the realization I'd betrayed someone I loved, hurt someone else in the process, and was scared to death I'd just spread more pain around. So I broke off the cheating relationship, and lugged around the guilt of what I'd done for several months. I was really set to be devoted, and to have faith that things would pull through and not to sabotage everything because I did make a bad mistake.
Fast forward to later, and I've gotten a good job working with a friend of mine and his mother. This friend was one I'd had for years, but was punctuated by frequent absenses -- he always wanted to get with me, but he never managed to catch me when I was single. We were close but nothing happened, and I got along with his mother as well. She thought we had a lot in common and gave me advice, took me shopping, asked after my well-being, etc. and mothered me. Given that my mother ended up in jail, I guess I was looking for some kind of mother figure I could look up to and rely on.
Anyway, things were finally looking like they'd turn around. I was making money, and I moved away from my sister (whom I'd been living with/working for) and got into an apartment. I mentioned it to my boyfriend, and he suggested he move out there to be with me so I didn't have to leave my family and friends. (We'd talked about moving in together before, but always about me relocating there -- and I'd shown a lot of hesitance with leaving my stomping grounds, so to speak, so I was happy to hear he was willing to move out this way.)
So, there -- my fears over a dwindling long-distance relationship were solved, as he packed up his whole life and came out here. It was bliss, for a while.
My family didn't approve of me seeing him since it first started, because it WAS long-distance and they didn't like me going out there. They also disapproved because he never visited me and met the family. Given that he worked a full-time job and I did some baby-sitting for my sister, I thought it was a pretty obvious choice that I visited him instead of vice-versa; it was the only way to prolong the visits which only came once every 3-4 months anyway. However, I didn't care -- I made it clear that it was my decision, and they'd get to know him and love him as much as I did, or they wouldn't and would have to deal.
Things took a bad turn when he and my best friend (who is male) got into a fight when we went out together one evening. My friend was being a know-it-all jerk, and was purposely trying to push my boyfriend's buttons -- I'm used to him being that way, though, so I didn't even think about it. Things didn't come to blows, but I thought it might, and my boyfriend was pretty upset. I had to convince him to give my friend a ride home and not leave him out in some parking lot, and I was mad. He apologized several times for upsetting me, and didn't yell back or try to defend himself when I was storming around being pissed off. I considered spending the night at my sister's, but after being outside for a few minutes to cool off, I decided we needed to work it through. So I went back and we talked and we were okay, but I knew I didn't want to bring him around my friend again.
Of course, word got around, and next thing I know none of my friends want anything to do with him. My sister starts asking me if he's hitting me. I get brought into my boss's (aka "mother figure") and talked to about relationship abuse, and the whole thing's gone way out of proportion. I remain adamant that I'm in no physical danger, but unfortunately, the seeds are already sown. Then, come Easter, I'm supposed to go to a family dinner and they want me to bring my boyfriend along. I'm bad about remembering these things, though, and I forget to mention it to him -- so an hour before we're supposed to be there, I suddenly tell him about it, and he decides he doesn't really feel like rushing to get ready and go, and asks me if I really want him to go. I say he doesn't have to when I'm actually thinking "Yes, I want you to go". Unfair, I know.
Anyway, it's fine. My family's uptight because he's not there, but I explained he wasn't feeling well and I stick up for him. I'm irate, and while I'm there I get a call from my friend (the one who wanted to date me) to wish me a happy holiday, and we chat. He's met my family and got along well with my niece and nephew, whom I adore. So I get to thinking that I'm really disappointed my boyfriend's not as interested in my family as I am, which isn't entirely fair because 1) neither of us are exactly family-oriented, and are actually somewhat embarrassed by our relations, and more keep tabs and visit out of obligation, and 2) I never made any effort to meet his family, although I did on a handful of occasions, for the reasons mentioned above. I don't see how I could have expected him to react any differently, especially when I told him it was fine if he didn't go.
So I talk about what's on my mind with my boss/mother figure/the mother of the guy who wants to get with me, and she puts the facts together that my boyfriend's attempting to isolate me.
(A little bit of advice here, too -- NEVER, EVER work for someone you are particularly close to. It sounds great in theory, but considering you see your co-workers more often than your family in most cases, the people you talk to for several hours each day about your life have some pretty incredible influence over your opinions.)
I'm extremely resistant to the notion that I am in a "bad relationship", but other strains are there as well -- I still went out with my friends, but I left my boyfriend out of the loop because I was worried about there being more scenes. Some distance was showing, and still, every day at work, I could never avoid crying because I kept being told I was in something unhealthy, that I wasn't getting what I wanted and needed, and I was making things worse, etc.
This is getting really long-winded so I'll try to be brief. I finally came to the conclusion that I needed to break up with him and get into a "healthy" relationship. Every day I went home knowing I needed to do it, but as soon as I saw him, I didn't want to. The one time I worked myself up to force myself, I told my "mother figure", her son, my best friend, and sister I was going to do it. I took off work early to meet him when he came home, and he knew something was wrong right off. However, instead of saying what I was supposed to say, I blurted out that I'd cheated on him. He was upset, and I left for the weekend to let him work it over. I don't know why I told him then -- I wondered if it wasn't because I wanted him to break up with ME to make it easier, but I remember the only thing I could think of all weekend was "if he forgives me, then that's more than I could have ever asked of someone; if he forgives me, I have nothing left to feel guilty about".
Well... he did forgive me. First he wanted to know if I told him because I felt guilty, or because I wanted him to leave; I told him it was guilt because it was true. Then we talked it over and worked things out and I explained what had happened. He understood, and we were ready to move on from there. Then I told everyone that I hadn't broken up, and furthermore, I wasn't going to.
Work was hell that week. I've never been surrounded by that much hostility before or since. I cried all the time, I barely ate, I felt sick all the time, and I didn't know what to do. I talked to my boyfriend about what I was dealing with, and he was concerned about it -- he suggested I try taking legal action for being stuck in a hostile work environment, and for essentially attempting to be forced to date the boss's son -- but I didn't want to do that. I felt like she was the closest thing to a mom I was going to get, and I really wanted to believe everyone was looking after my best interests. One warning he gave was that he never endured anyone that wanted us to be apart -- and I shouldn't either.
"Mother figure" told me I was being contradictory and hurting people who didn't deserve it, and that if I was unsure I needed to stop playing with people. She told me I wasn't going to have a marriage or any long-term future with him, that I was being taken advantage of and he was looking for a meal ticket, and I wasn't going to be happy, and so on. I know it looks so stupid written down, but I really did start believing it when I was talked into circles every day about these things.
I finally did make myself break up with him, because I called him and tried to do it. The cowardly way was the only way I could force myself to do it -- he wanted to see me in person, of course, which normally would have stopped me, but I'd already started and needed to finish.
I don't even remember what stupid reasons I gave. They weren't good ones. I didn't what else to say, though, because I don't think I was clear myself why I wanted to break up. I pretty much just told him he needed to leave. Then I found out he'd gotten a job here working for one of the universities, with spousal benefits for free tuition and all, which meant he'd been listening to me -- I'd always said I wanted to go to college and not have to work, and he always said he'd work that out if he possibly could. I'd hinted before I wanted to get married somewhere in our future, which he'd never really responded to... and then I find out when I'm botching a break-up that he would have and had planned on it.
He said the only reason he'd leave was if I didn't love him anymore. So I said it, and I wanted to die after that.
He left the next day while I was at work, but from the time I said I didn't love him I felt like I'd made a mistake and I wanted to tell him to stay but I didn't want to make things worse.
It's been six months now.
I've changed jobs and I'm now realizing how much I was being manipulated and I'm hurt and angry about it. I don't speak to my best friend anymore because he's started going out of his way to make me feel belittled, stupid, and weak. I'm dating the guy who wanted to date me for the last few years because my family likes him and approves, as do what friends I have left. He's OK. He's stable enough. He wants a wife, 2.5 kids, a dog, and a house in suburbia.
He, of course, thinks I made the "right choice". He's dismissive when I try and bring up the fact that I was a complete villain during the whole ordeal. I hate his mother but I have to hide it. "After all she's done for me" it would be bad face to scorn her now. He thinks he's all I need, but I have my doubts. He's just been telling me that I need time to adjust and let myself be happy, and things will be okay.
It's been six months since I broke up with my ex, though. I am plagued with guilt. I've tried to keep tabs on some mutual friends to just hear wind of whether or not he's okay. About two months after he left, I was so broken up with what I'd done and missing him that I tried calling and e-mailing him, just to say how sorry I was. He didn't answer the call, of course, and I choked on the message, just saying I'd hoped to talk to him. On the e-mail I wanted to know if we could talk, and I never got an answer. He's been on my mind every day since he left, and I swear there are moments when I see or hear something I think he'd like and I have to stop myself from calling and telling him. I feel so horrible about what I put him through, even after everything he endured from me.
I haven't been happy since he's been gone. And I think I deserve that.
I want so badly to apologize, to tell him I realize how irrational and gullible I was, and beg him for even the most remote chance that we could work things out.
How can I ask him to take me back, though, when I'm the one who told him to leave?
Furthermore... what on earth gives me the right to try and contact him in the first place?
I have a few things of his I found while I was moving (nothing serious.. a couple of books and a towel), and I'm getting them sent back to him soon. I want to include a letter, but I don't know what I'd say. If he reads it, I want him to know it's real, but I don't want him to believe I'm making excuses or trying to guilt him or anything like that. I wonder if I should try to include anything at all.
I finally heard after five months that he's starting at the police academy back where he used to live. I'm happy for him.
So I wonder if maybe it's better if I just let me be forgotten.
To anyone who read all this -- thank you. I'm not evil, just misguided.
