Sorry to hijack GT for my personal soul-spilling needs, but I don't keep a diary, and if I did, it sure as hell wouldn't provide any supportive commentary. Apologies for the rambling and the self-indulgent sap stuff.
4 days post-breakup: So, I was having a better day. I posted about it. I was doing really well. Superbly, all things considered.
Then I went back to my apartment (where my ex-boyfriend is) after a late night at the office, to collect some things for the week. We had been arguing over texts after he had disengaged from the whole situation for three days and not contacted me. I gave him a warning, but he was surprised to see me because he had mentally detached from the texts and put his phone away. Similarly when I got there, he kept trying to remove himself emotionally by saying he didn't want to get stressed out, didn't want to fight, didn't want to get worked up, etc. I said it was really super that he got to set all of the parameters for our breakup and I was the sad, anxious one jumping from friend's place to friend's place while we were settling the apartment. It seemed to perfectly reflect his ongoing selfish attitude during the relationship.
Anyway, in the beginning he tried to make me slow down and stop packing my things, but because of my curt and pained replies he got angry and was spiteful and brutally honest about why we couldn't be together anymore. I agreed with all of it, because it was true, but inside my heart was yelling, "Why? Why won't you stop this? Why don't you want to make it okay? Why didn't you try harder? Why didn't you recognize the patterns and prevent all the bad feelings? Why didn't you love me more than all of this? Oh please, just be gentle with me."
I was harbouring so much emotional pain I literally had stomach cramps. I wanted to just crumple and break down in tears. I was so angry and sarcastic that I'm actually embarrassed at how transparent I was in revealing all of the pain I'm feeling. Towards the end he pulled a classic move of his and threw in a painful jab designed to hurt: he shook his head and said, "God, you know, Black Mamba... you're fucked up." You see, though, I'm not fucked up. Far from it. I was just horribly wounded. I'm so used to these from him by now that it wasn't that shocking but it piled on the pain nonetheless. Every time I've gotten upset enough he has said something like this to hurt me.
I left on a sad, quiet note. We hadn't been having regular sex for the last 5 months because of a medical issue he's been dealing with and it really put the knife in the coffin towards the end of the relationship. I choked up a little and told him that I had just wanted to feel close to him, in all the other ways, when I couldn't have him in that way, but that he was living such an independent life, bent on self-healing and self-improvement, that I barely fit into it anymore. I said that I didn't do or say anything I did because I hated him or the person he had been but that I had just wanted more of that person in my life. I had desperately wanted to make up for the lost intimacy, which is why I was so sensitive when I felt ignored or unimportant in the wake of all of his solo activities. He got teary and said it had been hard for both of us, and why had I blamed him for being selfish?
I feel emotionally abandoned. I have so many regrets. I should have been able to fix this. I wish I had been able to be more understanding during our relationship. I wish he had looked after my needs. It was so, so, so horribly bad and I want to just cry forever. I have to go back to pick up the rest of my books and clothes at some point. He has decided to keep the apartment until the end of the lease in August. The thought of only going back one last time is just too much to even bear right now. I have never felt so depressed.