On nights like this, I always find myself reminiscing on the falsehood of what I thought was a fairytale. I spent years feeling like I was someone so special to an individual who would treat the next person the same. In my mind, everything was so genuinely perfect that I couldn’t imagine being so easily replaced by my prince charming. I’m not particularly eager to place labels on people, yet the narcissistic description suites them well.
I was so young when we got involved with each other, cluelessness was inevitable. How quickly the I love you phrase entered into our daily conversations would now be considered alarming, but then it felt just right. It is dangerous to get involved with anyone who does not understand the limitations, which allow for healthy boundaries to be implemented; before you know it, you’re sucked in, and it is hard to get out.
Co-dependency is a trait that develops being in a relationship such as this. You begin to feel that you have to ensure that life flows easier for your individual, jeopardizing your only responsibility, you. He was so immensely attracted to submission, so the toxicity was terrible. When I caught him stepping out, I was unsure if he thought it would deescalate the situation, but it never did more like leverage that he used to all parties involved.
It is hard when you begin battling with the emotions of love, having the constant flashbacks fueling the internal rage. Then there is the soft spot where your true feelings were involved, causing you to feel foolish for still caring. I have learned to be honest with myself; I am not wrong for caring and loving someone who caused me much pain. I can admit I trusted a lousy person with my heart, but I will not change my heart because of their actions.
I’m huge on paying attention to all the red flags because there are so many damaged individuals in the world. Know and understand; it is not your responsibility to bring happiness to another adult; you can find joy internally. From my experience, it won’t end well; eventually, your cups run empty, and the desire for their pick-up will diminish.
I would be dishonest if I said that things would get better immediately after leaving; staying away is the hardest part. The constant happy memories tend to be worse, and I began questioning whether I made the right decision. Deep down, I knew I did, but I’ve become so accustomed to their need of me that I began to crave it. Writing helps me regulate my emotions when it comes to them, and I am always in my head, so I can’t think without a doubt until I write them out. If you’re reading this and going through something similar, remember you owe yourself happiness!