Ending a relationship
When we love, we want to tell ourselves that it will never end but sometimes we have to face the evidence, some stories are not made to last. When love is only defined by the number of tears it sheds, then it is time to leave. That is the meaning of the testimony that is being given to us today. I had to end a relationship that is hurting, testimony of Manon.
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Ending a relationship that is hurting (Ending a relationship)
By definition, love is something beautiful and it should never become a source of suffering. And yet, we know that to love is to take the risk of suffering. When it comes to feelings, nothing is written in advance. A love story can make one day happy to make suffer the next, as a heartache can give way to the most beautiful of love at first sight some time later. No nothing is fixed in love, nothing is ever certain and that is why it is sometimes difficult to end a relationship that makes you suffer because we would have liked never to have to get to this point.
Manon’s testimony: I ended a relationship that made me suffer
Vincent and I, it’s a passionate love story that started very quickly, without us asking questions. We met in an evening among friends in common. The party, the music, the alcohol too it’s true, the desire to have fun and let go were right of my usual seriousness. One dance leading to another, we spent the end of the evening glued to each other, talking, laughing and kissing.
The next evening, we both saw each other again and the evening was extended by a fiery night at his house. From then on, we never left each other. For weeks, it has been passionate between us. Messages, appointments, shared nights, we did not let go literally or figuratively.
I had been afraid of a story with no future, it was not so. I feared a purely physical relationship, Vincent proved to me day after day that he and I were something else. Exciting conversations, evenings with friends, outings. As the months went by, I was reassured. We were young, in love and happy, I saw the future taking shape in color alongside him and for me the story was beautiful, there was no reason for it to change.
And yet, that’s where everything changed. Or rather, that’s when, perhaps, I opened my eyes.
Vincent loved the noise, the world, the night, the city. There were always friends, parties, last minute invitations. We were operating in the midst of a whirlwind of people and stories that I had lost the thread of a long time ago.
But above all, Vincent went out alone, often, or rather he disappeared. A drink with colleagues for an afterwork ended at midnight, an evening with friends became a sleepless night, strangers suddenly became his new best friends with his share of girls who rode around him. Rather calm, I was lost in this life. And especially of a natural little jealous, I became suspicious and suspicious.
Where was he? With whom? Why wasn’t he replying to my messages? And who were all these people he saw night after night? (Ending a relationship)
The passion of the beginning was far away, and the complicity installed for months was crumbling. We pended little quality time together and he began to evade, to lie. I questioned myself, I didn’t want to become an emotional, possessive or sickly jealous dependent woman, it wasn’t me. Perhaps I was asking for too much?
The difficulty of ending a relationship that causes pain
He finally managed to talk to me, to tell me that we were young, that we had to enjoy it, go out, party, meet people, have fun. That he was fine with me but that he did not want to lock himself into our relationship.
I cashed in, even though I was in pain. I thought we really loved each other, that we were at a more advanced stage of our relationship than just a “I’m fine with you”. He had been clumsy, I asked him too much, that’s what I told myself.
Even if our first incompatibilities, they, the opposite.
Day after day, it got worse and it lasted for weeks. He came home late, I waited for him in vain, I could not reach him or he died outright. Besides that, our rare moments together were always as strong for me, so I stayed.
I was in pain, but I was staying. (Ending a relationship)
I had become the one who waits, who hopes, who distrusts, who accepts the crumbs. My friends told me that I was sad, not fulfilled, the shadow of myself. I would cancel parties with them in the hope that he would come back, I wouldn’t let go of my phone, I would become addicted, paranoid, unhappy and a bad friend.
And then there was the thing toomuch, like in a bad series. The evening too much, the glass too much, the passing girl. He could not deny it as it was obvious. He promised that it had happened only once, that it didn’t mean anything, that he wouldn’t do it again, that he careed about me. Blah blah. I knew it, my confidence was dwindling, but I stayed a little longer.
My friends started opening their eyes, telling me to think about myself, that I was ruining my life with him, that he was unstable and selfish. That he was going to destroy me.
Anyway, if my head refused to make a decision, my body had made its choice. It had become physically impossible for me to have sex with him as a result of the story with this girl. It had become epidermal. I didn’t know her but I saw him with her, it was stronger than me.
And my life sank into the glaucous, the pathos.
He could not remember if he had protected himself with her. My blood only went around. He deceived me, hoped for a pardon but had no respect for me.
I saw red, anger, shame, fear, the feeling of having been deceived, deceived, betrayed. I left.
He tried to catch up and then get me back for days afterwards. Taking refuge with a friend, I trembled while going for the blood test and waiting for the results. A priori I did not risk anything since I had not made love with him again after her but there were so many lies that my trust had disappeared.
I think that’s when I had the click, that I understood that everything was over for good.
After months of enduring a life that did not suit me, of questioning myself, I was alone to face this ordeal. It wasn’t my fault but yet I felt guilty. Because I had let him make me suffer, play with me, lie to me, betray me. And that I had not been able to set my limits, leave before, protect myself.
I don’t want to have any regrets about the beginning of our story because the passion was there and my feelings were sincere. But with hindsight, I realize that I allowed a situation to set in that did not suit me for fear of asserting myself, for fear of losing it. On this, I am responsible and I should have spoken to him before and probably left him earlier.
As for the rest, it is unforgivable. Respect in a couple is the basis of everything, and he does not know what that means. In a way, and even if it’s sad to say, I wonder if he really considered himself a couple with me during this shared year.
This relationship has made me suffer but it has also taught me a lot about myself, about what I want and don’t want anymore in love. And on the importance of thinking about oneself and loving oneself before giving everything to the other.
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