It’s a crying shame that he can’t man-up for us. We love each other so much. He’s a mooch. A wolf in sheep clothing. It’s killing me to think about leaving. We live in the same house and I have’t said a word to him in 3 days. I caught him in another lie. I know he doesn’t want me to leave him. I don’t want to leave him. But I’ve had it as much as I can take. I’m about to serve him up a dish of “fuck-you”.
But the thing is, I loved him more than he loved me
I’ve created a plan to leave. A list of very small, unemotional ways I can get my foot out the door. He won’t know. If he knows he will try and stop me because he’s afraid of being alone. Not only will he not know, but the unemotional-part of these things, like stacking my cash, signing a lease to an apartment, and getting a new car, these are things that I can do that won’t be so tough that I want to run back into his arms.
The hard part will be looking in those eyes and telling him that I’m walking out the door for good.
Im going on to my 2nd month since I walked away. After a month, I felt I couldnt do it any longer and I broke. I contacted him. I hadnt even seen him and he hurt me again. Im grateful for that though, because it reminded me I was on the right track. This article was right on point and I feel it will really help…I even took notes. I hate myself and beat myself up because I gave him my ALL for 8 years. I keep reminding myself that ive given it too much time, its NOT going to change. He is NOT going to change. It still hurts but I can do this.
I just got out of the second toxic relationship in my life. My ex husband whom is my fathers son was a dictionary role model for a narcissist. As well as https://besthookupwebsites.org/cs/fuck-marry-kill-recenze/ a heroin addict. Lazy. I became addicted to heroin as well with him. And one day I finally left and divorced him. He was my first love. Battled that addiction for a long time after. I finally became clean. Until I met my now ex boyfriend. It was like a fairytale alignment. He was best friends with my garsh darn best friend. Came from a good family. Wealthy one at that. Loved so many of the same things I did. He became buddies with my son. They would get along like peas and carrots.
I “thought” I truly loved him
I’m the kind of person that likes to have a few mixed drinks daily. It helps keep away the heroin demons. I never get trashed or drunk. I mix them so weak it’s silly. Maybe I have a little problem I thought? But gosh. No biggie. So I always have a bottle in the fridge. He started to slowly but surely hit my bottle STRAIGHT. More and more. He was never much of a drinker before me. He would friggin chug it. He would become belligerent, aggressive, mean and down right cruel out of nowhere for no reason. Call my son names to his face, call me horrific names in front of my son. Egg me on by pushing me and getting me to the snapping point of fighting back.