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I have noticed a few of you have broken up with your significant others
lately. It fucking sucks. And I promise this isn't directed at anyone
specifically... I just think about this stuff a lot, so I wanted to write
it all down.

I just want to say that I was there. I was there so hard. And for that
reason I want to share my story with you. Not to tell you what to do. Not
to tell you how you should feel. But hopefully to give you a perspective
of someone who has been through something similar and that as hopeless and
awful as it feels, it gets sooooooooooo much better. Hopefully you can see
some parallels and feel hope about your future.

Let me give you my back story. Hopefully you can relate.

I was at the ripe age of 17 when I laid eyes on my rock god. My friend
told me about this band she had just heard of and we asked our parents if
we could drive from LA to Bakersfield to go check them out. Lord, back
then I would drive all the way to San Diego to go see a band I was
interested in.

We drove out. I wore some ridiculous half top and jeans and made my self
look as old as I possibly could. We enter the venue. The band starts and I
first lay eyes on rock god. He's hot. He's older. HE'S IN A BAND.

After the show, we walked up to them, since my friend had met them and shot
pictures for them before, and started to talk. I struck up conversation
with rock god, and eventually they tell us they are headed to someone's house
to party after the show. I call my mom and tell her the show started late
and I would be a little late with the drive. She said ok, and off to the
party we went. Anyhoo, we talked all night, we exchanged numbers, I told
him I was 17... He told me he was 23... He was weirded out (rightfully
so, 17!?!?!), and I didn't give a shit.

A week later I called him and asked him out. He liked my confidence. He
came and picked me up at my parents house and off we went on our first
date.

The rest is history, sort of...

As the months went on, I started to notice he took pills A lot of pills.
Vicodin. And he was depressed. Severely. I was young and naive about
it. The idea of drug addiction was something foreign to me. (I didn't
really even drink til I was 21). Despite the pills, which he said he was
taking as an anti-depressant, our relationship was pretty good. We were
good friends. We got along great. Neither of us were fighters, so there
was little conflict between us. He toured a lot. I think it has
contributed to me being as independent as I am today.

I relished in that first moment we got to see each other after he would
come home from tour. It was the best. We talked on the phone most nights.
Honestly it's all a bit of a rock show blur right now. The band got
signed to major label. He started taking more drugs. And for the first
time I could "see" the drugs on him. His eyes were glazed, couldn't focus,
he was sedated... a zombie. It killed me. I finally came to terms with
the fact that I was dating a drug addict. After hitting a low point, and
us breaking up at some point, he decided to go see a real doc. He got off
the vicodin and on to something prescribed for depression. We got back
together.

The next couple of years, I would say were the best we had. the band
failed, but he seemed normal. He saved up a bunch of money. Worked for
his parents business. He enrolled in law school and even bought a house.

This brings us to the last year of our relationship. He wouldn't let me be
a part of the house purchase or even pay him and money for the mortgage
because he didn't want me to have any stake in it. Looking back, he always
kept me at a distance. We never lived together officially despite living
together at my place or his. He did a summer abroad in Germany. As soon as
he got back, we decided I would move in. I moved out of my parents place
and into his.

It's then that he told me he was tired of taking medicine of any kind. He
wanted to stop seeing his psychologist and stop taking his meds. I
supported him because that's what he wanted to do. And he would not listen
to any of my reasoning that perhaps he should stay on them.

As he started weaning off of them, the withdrawals kicked in.... Bad. He
had intense restless leg syndrome, insomnia, sweats... All that awful. I
took care of him, nursed him through it, and as the drugs wore off, so did
his affection for me. He started to become more distant. The further he
drew away the closer I got. I was sitting right next to this person, and
yet he was a million miles away. We became roommates. There was no love.
I cried a lot. I got angry that he asked me to move in only to fall out
of love with me. We had been together for 6 years. I knew we were never
gonna get married. I was ok with that. I didn't care about marriage. But
I thought that was it. He was my guy. For ever and ever.

When the break up began, he was very nice to me about it. I would start to
move my stuff out, and he would go, "Well, you don't need to move it all
out now..." He told me how much he loved me and that he always would.
That someday we would maybe get back together and be happy again. That he
couldn't be in a relationship. That he was too broken. We talked about
the "last date" we would have... We talked about how we would have lots of
last dates. He kept the door open. He led me on. He selfishly covered
his ass so he wouldn't have to deal with me.

I wish he would have made me angry. It would have been easier. Instead I
got about 6-8 months, of "hanging out as friends" every now and then, which
would inevitably end with me crying and him saying, "We can't get back
together".

Luckily for me, I work in a field that can take me to all parts of the
world. Being single, I took the plunge and applied overseas. And got the
job. I moved to New Zealand. It was the best/hardest thing I've ever
done. I left with a lot of feelings left over for him. I was in a new
country without knowing a single person, newly single for the first time in
my adult life. I made a bunch of mistakes after that, and I did a bunch of
awesome stuff. I hit the lowest depression of my life. I got very lonely.
I thought about suicide for the one and only time in my life. Rock god
emailed me on my birthday for the next two years and I stupidly would write
him back asking how he was and what was up... He would never respond.

I'm gonna be honest and say, it still hurt a couple years later. We didn't
speak much at all anymore, but I was still hurt. I remember the day, a
year or two after we broke up when I saw on his sister's FB that he had a
girlfriend. My heart jumped into my throat. I haven't even considered
dating anyone else because I was moving from country to country, and fuck
dating.

I couldn't believe this "broken, depressed, can't be with anyone" guy had
become (in photos) everything I ever wanted him to be with me. They took
cute couple photos... They went on trips. They went to weddings together.
He was a lawyer now. THEY GOT DOGS. And fucking named one the name we
had always picked for our future dog. These were all just thoughts going
through my head. Nothing I ever really verbalized to anyone.

But then it hit me. He never could have been this person with me. We had
been through too much together. I was too close to the situation. I was
part of the situation. I was there for his darkest hours. And I wanted
him so badly to heal. And he knew I did. That was pressure on him. That
gave him a reason besides just getting better for himself. And it wasn't fair, for either of us.

I went on for another year or so without dating. I didn't want anyone
tying me down to a city. But once I moved back to the US, I jumped back
into the dating pool. I went on a years worth of bad online dates. Well,
not bad... But not great. No one I was really interested in. And then I
went on a date with Barlydude.

I will say that this date was not spectacular. But everything since has
been. I thought he talked a lot about himself, but I thought he was cute,
and was pretty sure it was a nervous defense mechanism. We kept seeing
each other. We got busy on our second date. We were mainly drunk for the
first 2 months of our relationship until I realized I need to hang out with
him sober. We did. It was good. It was different. It was unlike what I
had been taught relationships could be.

He respected me. He loved me. He told me so. He did nice things for me.
He liked my thoughts on things, and he communicated. I didn't have to
cater to his moods. I didn't have to keep my mouth shut if he was upset.
I could tell him the second something bothered me, and we would just talk
about it and we would adjust minor things for each other. We compromised
for each other not because we had to but because we wanted to. He told me
he wanted to marry me. I told him to go for it, I dare you. We moved in
with each other at 6 months. He asked me to marry him at 8 months. He
gave up his business in SF for me to go to my "dream job" in LA. Not
because I pressured him, but because he wanted me to do it. Because in his
words, "I had to do it". He followed me to a few mores jobs, and now I
have settled in a less exciting but incredibly rewarding job, because he
deserves to work on his career now. Because I want it for him. We married
after a year, and we recently hit our 1 year wedding anniversary. We've
been through so much crazy shit, but my love for him grows every day and I
know it will continue to do so. He's not perfect. He can be emotionally
distant, but he is willing to talk about it, and where that comes from in
his life, and for that I am grateful.

I look back now on my 6 years with rock god, and there wasn't even a
fraction of the love I feel now. At the time I thought it was the greatest
love of all time because I knew nothing else. We told each other we would
always love each other when we broke up. And I can say with confidence
now, that I don't. I was a small part of my journey in life. It was
important and it taught me a lot, but I don't love him any more. There was
passion, and obsession, and I loved him so much it hurt... But I don't
anymore. And that's ok. That's good.

I'm not saying all this because I'm still bitter... I just want you guys
to hear my story. Those feelings of loss go away. They don't haunt you
forever. And in fact you will find something greater because you know how
you don't want to feel now. Rest assured that there is someone else you
can love as much if not more. In fact I'd be willing to wager there are
hundreds of people you could love just as much. There isn't one right guy.
They aren't your special unicorn that you happened to meet in your city.
My husband certainly isn't the only man I could be crazy happy with.
There is a big world out there, and there are wonderful people out there
that you will hopefully cross paths with. This is why I highly recommend
online dating to people because of all the people you wouldn't necessarily
meet otherwise. I went on some SHITTY dates y'all, but some weren't so
shitty. And I'm thankful I did.

I guess just hang in there. TIME HEALS LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER. Roll your
eyes at it. Go ahead, I'll wait. Now quickly think, "Not me Barlychew,
I will never feel good again." Oh yes you will! You will actually one
day look back and go, wow, why did I put up with that? Because you hella
don't anymore.

Go through the heartbreak. There is no quick fix. No one can tell you how to feel. But know that we have felt it to. And we have healed. And there is awesome on the other side.


You just all deserve better than some dude who "can't be in a relationship
right now". And I am just hoping that you will realize that sooner than later.


*In THAT way. (or her)