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Need To Get This Story Out... You Don't Have To Read It

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Early last year I started speaking to the man of my dreams. I'm not a kid. I'm a grown-ass 40-year old woman who has been burned in more than one way. My defenses were up. My shields were up. My filters were up. And, I was a mess. I wasn't looking for anyone. I wasn't on any dating sites. I needed someone to talk to, and he became that person. It's a weird story how we met, and I'm gonna skip past it, and fast-forward to a year of late-night conversations on the phone. We debated politics and pushed each other's buttons. We saw each other's points of view. We got to know each other. We started to fall for each other.


Fast FAST forward to March of this year.


I move in with him. I dismantle my life across the country. I sell/give away most of my things. I watch the homeless go through my garbage and pick up my pillows for themselves. But I have this guy. It's been a rough year. It started with a messy firing. Then unemployment. Then a legal action (NOT instigated by me) regarding the messy firing. Then a new job. Then my cat got sick and had to be put down. Then I got fired again. And boom.... He had said, "If things look the same next year, maybe come live with me." And that sounded like a great idea to me.


I could not get enough of this guy, which is rare for me. I couldn't talk to him enough. I couldn't be around him enough. He and I moved toward each other with a fervor. And the stars seemed to align and everything looked like it was shouting the word "YES!" from the Universe. Everything I said was equaled and reciprocated by him. After a mild freakout earlier, he was completely in it. He made it clear he wanted to marry me. He called me his fiance. Just get here. Get here soon.


So that's what I did. January started packing things up. February I drove across the country and landed at his feet. And all was well with the world. We were finally together.


Admittedly, the transition period was not as smooth as I would have hoped, but I figured we had time. After all, I had just uprooted my entire existence and devoted my future to this guy. I was in this to build something - with him! Although there were some bumps in the road to paradise, it was just as I'd hoped. Nights on the couch followed by nights spooning. Laughing together. Loving each other. Getting used to each other. It was precisely what I'd signed up for.


But something happened early on that I didn't know about.


I think, according to my foggy and traumatized memory, he found out in my second week there that there was a likelihood that he would be deployed after his current position ended in August. He was eyeing retirement and had put in the time, including being wounded in battle, and two tours overseas. He had his own scars and his own stories to tell. His own insecurities. News that he might be shipped over was big news - in a lot of ways.


Firstly, that immediately killed the idea of getting married. He had been burned by that before and wasn't going to do it again.

Secondly, the options for the next job came with varying degrees of communication and time. Some were for two years, some three. Some were "go overseas and never talk to anyone back home until we let you go."


I'm started to realize, as he clues me into these things in my third week, that this seriously throws off our plans. And slowly it became clear that it seriously screwed with his plans as well. He had gambled that they wouldn't send him anywhere and keep him stateside. I think, in that scenario, I'd still be on the couch with him. But here he was being offered the chance for MORE combat, career advancement, the chance to shoot bad guys! He wasn't scared to go. He WANTED to go. But he knew that meant letting go of me. He couldn't bet I'd be around when his time was up. And he had accidentally put himself in the position of having to consider someone else when making these decisions - something he had meticulously avoided most of his adult life. If he wanted to go and kill bad guys, he was gonna go and didn't have to ask permission of anyone. Until now.


I became aware that my head was on the chopping block. Believe it or not, that was not a comfortable position for me after uprooting my life for him!


The tension in the apartment is growing day by day. I'm having a hard time just acting like everything is fine. He's having a hard time putting it on the backburner and relaxing at all because I'm having a hard time. We try to be nice to each other. We try to leave room and be gentle with each other. But I'm slowly descending into a crisis.


I'm becoming aware, slowly - slower than him - how much has changed, how it has affected things, and how tenuous things are day by day. In the blink of an eye, everything changed. And I keep coming to the decision, over and over again, that despite this wrinkle, I am stupidly lucky to be with him. How much I've wanted to be with him. And this sucks - this sucks! - but I want to stick it out as long as I can. I don't want to pull away. I don't want to run away. I want to go through this with him. And I keep expressing this constant realization to him, trying to get him to commit to the same thing. I want him to be happy and if this is what he wants, it would suck, but ok - but let's do it together. Let's try. Everything fell into place for us before, it will happen again.


But he can't or won't.


One month into my living with him, we are talking about this again. And he is growing more tense, more distant, more emotionally unavailable. I call him at work. He comes home. I cry into his arms. We talk to each other. I think we've come to an agreement to stick it out. And then all hell breaks loose.


I triggered him. I think that's the best word for it. Something small that I said sent him into Monster Mode. Suddenly, he's angry and fed up. He goes for a drive. He comes back. He won't talk to me. He suggests I don't talk to him. I'm scared and confused and don't know what to do. We try to talk, and he ends up in the same pissy place. I even leave, willing to give him time in his sanctuary of a home, something that perhaps he'd been missing since I moved in. Play your video games. Go ahead. I'll leave and give you some time.


But I was exhausted and worn out. This had been the boiling cauldron of a week's worth of tension. I needed a break. So I got a hotel room and gave myself a hot bath, watched something girly on tv, and tried to get a little sleep. I think I'm being generous and understanding.


I come back around 11pm - almost five hours later - and am not acknowledged when I walk in the door. Ignores me completely. But I'm home now, so.... we're gonna try and fix this, right? Right?




I have to ask him to stop playing games and talk to me. And he's got just as quick of a fuse as before and has no more patience left for me. He's getting meaner, and more curt as time passes. I've already started packing up my things because I feel sooo unwelcome. But I DON'T want to run away. I WANT this. I want to WORK for this. We had both worked for this and wanted this. I don't want to run away. And I tell him so.


We're pushing each other and pressing each other. Trying to get the other to say something. But nothing is happening. I can't make him be with him. He can't make himself stay. And he won't go with a commitment to me. He wants to wait until we know something for sure and THEN decide. (Which is awfully like "hang around until I decide to go") And that simply ok with me. That's not why I moved to be with him. I need him to give some kind of reassurance.


But he won't.


Finally, he starts screaming. "GET OUT!" And then next ten(?) minutes are a screaming, stomping rampage of utter hatred directed at me. He wants me out. NOW. Not tomorrow - NOW. If I have a hotel room, he said, USE IT! He screams about how he had to leave to get some space. He screams about my personal habits. He finds a way to hurt me and he does it - effortlessly.


I tried to be calm. This didn't feel real. I could understand he was out of control, I'd been there, and I was not going to be baited into this. I kept saying "You don't mean that. Please calm down." which only infuriated him more.


And then, every now and then he'd stop and yell "God, I'm gonna hate myself for this later! I'm gonna freakin' hate myself later!" I asked why. He said, "Because I really love you." And then he'd go right back to screaming at me to get out.


With wide, angry steps he marched out of the apartment, 1 AM, with the phrase "Touch any of my crap and I'll file charges." and slammed the door.


I immediately went into survival mode and moved fast. Ripped the clothes from their hangers and tossed it in the back of the car. Grabbed what I could. Moved as methodically as I could. And went back to the hotel - as per his request. The next day I had a storage locker and a small window of time when I knew he wouldn't be home. I rented a van and got the rest of my stuff out. I was confident we were gonna work past this - but in the meantime let's not upset him further.


That day I made a nine-hour drive to the last refuge I had left, my parents. Stunned, shaken, appauled, alone and scared I made the drive in stony silence. I couldn't talk. I was numb. I was moving on pure adrenaline at this point. Puttering into their driveway at 11 PM, with half of my possessions in the car, I was given a glass of wine and conveyed the story.




It has now been a month.


It has been one month of UTTER silence from the guy that spent a year talking to me NIGHTLY. He has never called, texted, written or apologized. Even when his friends reached out and asked what happened, I acted with grace saying that I loved him but he wouldn't want me to talk about it. But please hope it all works out.


So this is where I am. I am heartbroken - for damn sure. And I still love the guy. I think I understand what happened and I would love to talk to him about it. But he also really REALLY screwed up, and crossed some lines, and he needs to "man up" and reach out. And I held out hope for a long, long time that he would. We were so lucky to have found each other! This was a relationship worth rescuing.


But I guess not. And each and every day is like waking up to daggers in my chest. I peel myself off the shower floor, where I let myself collapse each day, and force myself to go outside - if nothing else to get away from my parents. Who are on 24/7 suicide watch - and not without good reason. I have no job, and the longer I go without one the worse it looks. I'm drowning in shame, humiliation, self-hate, self-disgust. I can't stop adding up how much he doesn't want me. I endlessly flip flop between feeling discarded by him, and believing that we really did have something special - something he will try to save.


I've tried meditating. I bought "You Can Heal Your Life" I've had three psychic readings.


I'm at the end of my rope and I see no light, or point, or hope or reason to go on.


And the worst part is, I truly still love him and miss him. Sincerely. I miss talking to him. I miss being around him. I miss him. And I love him.


I'm not sure I can make it one more day.

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I'm at the end of my rope and I see no light, or point, or hope or reason to go on.


And the worst part is, I truly still love him and miss him. Sincerely. I miss talking to him. I miss being around him. I miss him. And I love him.


I'm not sure I can make it one more day.


Perhaps this is what he feared... that he would get deployed and this would be your reaction. Or that he would be killed and it would ruin your life. He thinks he is trying to save you from heartache and nothing you say, do or feel is going to change that.


I am not questioning your feelings or how hard this is... when you have tried your best and truly love someone, it's incredibly hard and painful to let go.


I am here to tell you that yes, you CAN make it one more day. There are many others that have gone through grief and loss and rebuilt their lives again, including many of us in this forum.


If you love him as much as you say you do, you need to let him go with respect and dignity. He isn't doing anything wrong (except behaving like an a$$hole) with regards to wanting to be deployed... that's his choice for how he wants to live his life. Trying to hang on and manipulate the situation is selfish behavior and the more you do it, the angrier he will get.


He has clearly told you how he feels... he doesn't want to stay in a relationship while he is deployed... and you need to respect that. As the saying goes: "If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they're yours... if they don't, they never were."

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You have given us a very detailed accounting of how things transpired from your point of view. I would love to hear his side of things and why everything went south so quickly for him.


I would like to know, for sure, why he didn't tell you of his possible plans on being deployed?

What is your relationship history? His sounds pretty non-committal in general if you are the first person he's ever had to answer to.

... and yes, how much time did you actually spend together face to face in real life before you moved to be with him?


While I wait for your response. I'll just say that I'm sorry you're hurting.

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