Once again, things got rough between myself and The Boyfriend. Last night’s check-in was going well… until it wasn’t. This incident with his ex texting and him choosing to respond at all has really lit the flames of discourse between us. I asked if he still had any resentment about the situation (bc I was getting that vibe). He responded that he did and proceeded to explain why. The core of his issue with the entire thing is that I did not mention how he was “above board” (by telling me that she had texted). I was confused, because I had just mentioned how I recognized that he’d done so. But… mentioning it with him wasn’t the problem. The problem was that I didn’t do so with the other people we’ve spoken with about it (i.e. our coaches and therapist).

Cue being sucker punched in the gut. And yeah, I cried about that. I never want to be the cause of harm to other people, especially ones that I care about and love. It was extremely difficult to hear, but I was also very grateful that he told me. I reached my hand out to him, he took it, and I apologized sincerely for the mistake. He thanked me for that, and I thanked him for telling me, including that I want him to be more brave and not assume that speaking up will automatically start an argument. And even if it does, it needs to be said so we can work through it together – as a team.

I don’t remember much concerning the rest of our check-in. All I know is that Mars climbed up on my shoulder and started purring, which made me cry even more about my mistake, which then led to me feeling pretty fucking shitty and sorry for myself, intrusive thoughts about how unfair all of this is (fucking stupid ass addiction), severely missing how comforting my cat’s purring used to be, and that I wished he’d say literally anything positive/reassuring (you know, like… “I love you and I’m here for you” or “I don’t hate you”?!)… it was basically my brain yeeting itself into the Void of Despair. He did ask what else I was crying about and I told him. I made an attempt to ask for reassurance, but that was met with defensiveness and silence.

Eventually, I quietly asked him to help me get the Turds (my 3 cats) downstairs, he agreed and we did that. I completely avoided looking at him or getting near him, too. I was done done, not have a single spoon left to give. And I’ll admit, as well, that I really just wanted him to leave me the fuck alone. That state of being is shite for me. When I don’t want to be near him or have him touch/comfort me? It’s really bad. At that point, it was “fuck it” and “fuck him.” Sucks to feel that way, but if he couldn’t muster a single positive thing to say, then I guess it’s whatever, ya know? Proof is in the pudding, as the saying goes.

He went about getting his laundry shite done and I went straight to my room. I sent him a message telling him he could sleep in his own room (my last ditch effort to be kind and give him a short break from the consequences of breaking my boundary), put my phone on Do Not Disturb, took my night meds, crawled into bed, and did my best to sob and cry as quietly as possible, so as not to bother him. I guess I didn’t do a good enough job, because I heard him sigh in exasperation and walk into my room. He snuggled up to me, but my pillow was covered in tears and snot, and I couldn’t breathe, so I had to sit up and blow my nose for a while. He didn’t say anything, just rubbed my back a little bit. I finally laid back down, facing him and doing my best to avoid touching him. Guess I passed out at some point, because I woke up later and he was gone. Good riddance was all I could think and passed back out.

And thus, this morning when I checked my messages, I saw that he’d sent a message about letting the cats out… right under 2 deleted messages from last night. I assumed these were in response to me telling him he could sleep in his room. I thanked him for the cat stuff and told him I was curious what those deleted messages said. He confirmed that they were shitty things borne out of his exhaustion and frustration. So… I was correct in my assumptions.

I’m fucking exhausted, my face hurts from crying so much, and I just want to crawl in a hole and bite anyone that tries to comfort me. I feel like a piece of shit that is TOO MUCH… too empathetic, too emotional, too giving and caring… and I don’t know how to be any other way. I hate it so much.