Post here instead of contacting your ex!

[Kampuniform3]

2 hours ago, Jimmy ape said:

You have no humanity, no sense of honor. You are complete and utter trash. I don't understand how people like you sleep at night and live with yourselves. You are going to be miserable forever and thats what you deserve.

You’ll be alright, mate. When I read your post, I saw a lot of myself in there, and then you had to suffer the indignity of everyone’s vilification for just attempting to do the right thing when the odds were never in your favour.  Pretty awful to have to endure that on a forum devoted to trying to recover from personal hardships. As you say, our former partners will always be miserable.  That’s their fate. However, what you and I are going through is just temporary. A year from now, life will be a very different place to inhabit. You’ll/we’ll be okay.

[Kampuniform3]

I’m amazed by all this, as it’s been donkey’s years since I last went through this process.

Eight weeks have now passed since our last terrible night.  You know what? I’m over the worst of it, and am now on the final glide path to a soft landing.

Oh yes, I still have the odd day when I feel like I’ve survived a B-52 carpet bombing, but overall, I no longer resemble that man who arrived on these Pacific shores in June.

 I used to wonder about how and what you were doing all the time, and there was never enough hours in the day to ruminate on those themes.

I’d spend hours examining everything about our relationship down to the Planck level, but slowly fell out of the habit as life drew me away from the practice. 

Now I think about other things, far more alarming things.  You see, I’m now encountering pockets of time during the day in which you no longer exist in my mind, like you never truly existed at all.  
 

You see, I went through this in my early forties when a decade-long relationship disappeared in a puff of smoke.  Initially, it was emotionally crippling, but I survived, and just as in this instance, that former x followed the same path along the Ebbinghaus forgetting curve until she ceased to exist altogether.

Just those two relationships alone represent 32% of my adult existence. That’s 32% of my life that is completely irrelevant, and two people whom I would have laid down my life for are essentially dead for all intents and purposes.  
 

Such a waste of precious life.  It’s the equivalent of slowly starving to death whilst trapped alone on a South Pacific island for the equivalent number of years.  There’s nothing to take away from the experience apart from a desire to never do it again.  It’s the illusion of perspective, thinking that a South Pacific landfall will be the answer to someone adrift.  
 

You got a lot of traction from your cognitive dissonance at first, but as the months pass, and the seasons inexorably slide into winter, that tread will be worn away to nothing as you are forced to face the consequences of your impetuously vindictive decision.

 I know for a fact that the penny has already dropped. The knowledge that you took everything for granted is just starting to percolate up into your consciousness in the face of a pretty sharply delineated realty.  Everything was being done for you, and I buffered you from everything.  Get it now!? Pound to a penny, you do.  
 

This is the easy part, luv, when the weather is still cooperating. Ever been up on a roof in the late fall, with the rain thundering down, trying to locate the source of a leak? That’s small fry.  It gets so much worse in a period property like ours that I had to leave just partially refurbished/repaired because you had the emotional fortitude of an infant.  
 

I grieve for you. I truly do. Your 62-year-old, personality disordered gorgon of a friend certainly won’t be able to fill my shoes, despite being Guinevere in a previous life. Sweet Jesus, of all the people to befriend! Just a notch up in quality from having a friend who’s a crackhead, or a child molester. 
 

Your “friend” was instrumental in fanning the flames. Imagine having a good friend going out of their way to do that. I can assure you that if you turned the tables, and tried to drive a wedge between her and her husband, you wouldn’t be treated as delicately.  You’d be immolated in a second.  However, in our instance you were just fine with it, glorying in the adulation of virtuous victimhood.  
 

Victims are always at the apex of the Karpman triangle, and you climbed up there on the back of your 62-year-old rescuer. Victims are never accountable either, so you were in your element. I lost count of the number of times you climbed up there over the years, ready to bawl your head off whenever anything went wrong.  “Trust not a woman when she weeps, for it is her nature to weep when she wants her will.”

My life is better. I’m exercising again after four years, and amazingly, my shoulder is finally healing.

 It’s beautiful where I live, and I never tire of my surroundings. The weather is infinitely better, and the people here are just as kind as they were on the east coast, despite the ridiculous “Maritimers are the friendliest people on the planet!” pretence.  I wouldn’t return to that steaming pile of *** for love nor money. I’m happy to be away from all those pretentious east coast, banjo-plucking inbreds.  
 

It’s true what they say about the timelines of dumpers/dumpees. I’m truly healing and getting stronger in every sense, feeling happier and more confident.  I’m looking forward to my new life. 
 

You are having the inverse experience.  I know this for a fact. I remember what it was like being alone in that wretched place. Your nearest friendly face is 300 km away.  
 

Take that same number, multiply it by 21, add a forest fire 800 meters away, and no power, and that’s what you did to me.  
 

You’re a ***ing creep, and you deserve that hard landing you’re going to get.

…but I still grieve for you nevertheless.  
 

One more month, and you’ll be gone forever.  

 

[shouldhavelearned]

You can't control

[Kampuniform3]

When this first started, reaching the mythical 12-weeks to recovery seemed like an impossible task, and I was racked by my distress.

16-days after my last tirade, and you know what?

I’m not angry anymore.

I’m not overwrought.

I don’t miss you anymore.

I’m 2-weeks away from a point where the majority of people claim that the fallout from their breakup no longer interferes with their lives.  

They’re correct, and I can see the finishing line now. 

So, that day will soon be here. That day when I move past this forever.  
 

I’m so preoccupied with my life and future that it’s unlikely that I will even notice when you are no longer in my mind anymore.

 I doubt that I’ll be returning here, unless it will be a year or so later just to reflect on this awful period in my life. I’ll be in a better place then.

I don’t hate you, despite my tirades here, and I do hope that you will have a happy life.

I did love you dearly, and a small part of me will always miss you.

It’s sad going through this thread, and seeing everyone working through their sorrow, then reaching the stage where they can see the sun rising in the morning again.
 

I wonder how things worked out for them, and if they ever reflect on all the sorrow they left behind here.

That’s the true tragic aspect to all of this: that you do recover, rendering all those years of investment meaningless.

Take care of yourself, Sweetie.