On October 31, 2011, Will broke up with me. He felt like I was getting in the way of his job. It started with him coming up to me on the night of the 29th and telling me that the next Friday at 6 he would be in “town.” I asked if he was going with friends, doing errands, or going out with coworkers. He told me he didn’t think he could tell me.
I began to feel pissed off, and asked if it was work related or not. He said he couldn’t tell me and stormed out. The next morning after we got off work, we began arguing. I told him that it pisses me off when he can’t tell me the littlest thing, things that seem small to me are huge to him because he takes his job too seriously. He told me that that is where I go wrong, and that I need to quit thinking about his job like that.
To prove a point, he told me he was going on a hot sate that night. I felt like I hated him at that moment. He knew that cheating is the one thing I have no tolerance for. He seemed to think this would help him prove his point that “I make him feel like hes cheating on me sometimes.” What the fuck does that mean? Who the hell does that?
Since I could no longer talk, I was so furious in tears, he made pancakes for us, humming happily to himself. Things seemed fine, with him at least. We ate, took a shower together, and went to sleep. Well, he went to sleep. I kept crying. I cried myself to sleep, I woke up crying. When he woke up for the day, I was still crying and he went into the computer room to play his games. I stayed in bed and cried until it was almost time to go to work.
I finally went into the room where he was, to tell him I was worried about us. He said there was nothing to worry about, that he would never leave me. I told him I wasn’t so sure. He hugged me and I broke down again. I told him I would be ok once Friday was over with. He told me not to do anything drastic until then. “Like what, pack my shit and move out?” I asked bitterly. He said “Yes, like that.”
We got dressed and went to work. During work, I started to feel ok. I began to tell myself he wouldn’t do this to us if it wasn’t work related. I was feeling really good about things by the time work was over. However, he was mad again. He told me on the way home he was going to sleep in the spare room to think things over.
When we got home, I was crying again, trying to reason with him. We still undressed each other, we still took our shower together, but instead of getting in bed together, I left and went to my mom’s to sleep. I didn’t sleep at all that day. I spent the day crying, worrying that I was going to lose him.
He finally called for me to go home. He told me over the phone that he thought things over and decided that we did need to break up. I cried. I begged for him to take me back. I felt pathetic. He said he wanted to stay friends, and try to stay room mates. I told him it would be hard, but I was willing to give it a try.
Living with your ex is not easy. It was hard doing stuff separately rather than together (undressing, showering, cooking, etc). Once in a while old habits would sneak up on us though. We would find ourselves in a kiss, or exchanging I love you’s. It hurt a lot when I walked in the spare room to use the bathroom and I saw him jerking off. I felt like I wasn’t good enough. That used to be my job to get him off (a different post, I promise). However, harder than all of that, was watching him fall out of love with me so easily.
He really did feel like I was making him choose between me or his job. His coworkers asked about us soon after the break up. I told them what happened. They all called him an idiot, and told me it was a dinner for their department. Just because he couldn’t invite me didn’t mean he couldn’t tell me about it. I told him I knew it was a dinner, and he freaked out and told me we had no chance together, ever after that. That day when he woke up he went out to find his own place.
I ended up packing his shit, because he was too lazy playing on his computer to do it himself. It was hard to see him go, but at the same time it was a relief. I ended up asking myself why I was having such a hard time letting go, when in all honesty I haven’t been that happy with him that last few months. I always felt like his computer was more important, and our sex life was shaky to begin with. That was when I really started letting go.
We are trying to stay friends, though its hard. I always dread seeing him at work, and I hate it when he has mail still come here sometimes, meaning he has to come and get it. However, I end up enjoying his company more than I thought I would, though I feel worse all over again after he leaves.
For a while I hated sleeping because all I did was dream that we were back together, then woke up realizing how alone I was. I don’t dream about him so much anymore. Its easier to sleep, and I am starting to enjoy that I don’t have to clean up after anyone but myself.