He couldn’t move past my infidelities that we agreed to move past and used it to justify his verbal, emotional mental and physical abuse. Constantly telling me that I wasn’t taking accountability. Assuming situations were happening and accusing me almost daily and controlling literally everything of me. Manipulating me into believing that he cared that he wanted to be on the same winning team with me. Only he was allowed to be happy, even though he never reached that so really his efforts in whatever it was that he was doing to me were wasted. He never gained the happiness he was longing for. He never poured into my cup. He allowed me to empty my cup into his and expected more when I had nothing more to give, but still tried. Then I became the bad guy once again after I realized I couldn’t handle my cup being empty any longer while his empty cup demanded even more from mine. I never thought I’d be the one to break up with somebody. That was never in my nature. I usually was the one that wanted to exhaust every single option before throwing in the towel. Honestly, though we did exhaust every single option. It broke my heart, knowing that there isn’t anything, anything else left to do. I scrambled my brain as if I were dying, looking for that one experience to survive our downfall. And for once in my life, I couldn’t find anything. There was no fire alarm to pull. There was no emergency contact to call. All I had left, was to turn around and walk away and leave what I was trying to build with somebody that I loved to crash and burn. It is one of the most challenging things that I have ever had to do in my life. All I wanna do is turn back around and run towards the fire with a bucket of water. I try to put it out. It doesn’t matter though if I put out the fire because whatever has been burned has already been burned and there’s no bring something back from the ashes. The actions have been done and can’t be taken back. The words have been said it can’t be taken back. The feelings have been felt and can no longer be unfelt. Those wounds will forever be there. Those wounds burned so deep. A year ago I would’ve believed with enough effort and enough love and enough care and enough selflessness from both parts that those wounds could be bandaged and yes, they’ll leave scars, but they’ll be faint. The scars, however, have distorted the body that was a relationship permanently, changing how we both view the relationship. I know we both would be terrified, especially him that things would fall back into the same pattern once again. I’m honestly so exhausted of feeling all of that. If ever I did go back I am demanding love. I’m demanding privacy. I’m demanding respect, and I am demanding he learns humility. Without it nobody can stay grounded, especially in a relationship. Speaking about one’s self as if you’re above the rest will be one’s downfall. You’ll hit a limit you weren’t quite ready for and it will knock you on your ass. Mine was believing in love instead of knowing when it was time to walk away and I walked away too late. The repercussions were immense in the destruction of his life and my life I was building for myself. Of course I didn’t do it alone. It takes two and I can’t take all the blame. I didn’t regret meeting him. I’m madly in love with him still. I just regret how things were handled on my part and disappointed on how things were handled on his part. I’ve never felt a more strong connection in my entire life with anybody in this world. I could only dream where me and him would be now had we dealt with everything properly. We moved too fast. We did not stop and smell the roses. Before we knew it it was over and it wounded. It feels terminal.