As a shy young girl, I didn't date very often. So when this someone I liked for a while asked me out on Valentine's day, I, of course, said yes. We began dating long-distance, as I was attending a boarding school during the year and living in a different state for the rest of it. He was very kind at the beginning, and was always thoughtful and considerate when talking to me on the phone. We had been "dating" for at least two months before he revealed his other side to me: another personality he named "John". John was a downright jackass, and enjoyed the company of other women frequently, not to mention the terrible things he would say to me. My boyfriend would come back from his stints as "John" and apologize profusely, apologies which I, scared and concerned, would always accept.
Keeping in mind that this was my first relationship, I soon became entirely involved in my boyfriend's swings. He asked me to keep him talking, to make sure that he would stay with me, just to add, he was terribly melodramatic, and didn't do anything he would regret. I was still upset from his first cheating expedition as John, and was consequentially very insecure. I kept close watch on him as best I could from so far away, but it was difficult, and soon felt more like a chore than anything else. Most times I felt more like a mother watching over a psychotic child than a girlfriend doing as her boyfriend asked. My self-confidence plummeted. and I spiraled into a deep internal depression, one which manifested itself in the form of biting cynicism and jealousy. The only person I could talk to was my roommate, my best friend. She became my one refuse from my boyfriend's nature, and I'm sad to say I relief on her far more heavily than I should have though she never complained.
The months passed, and before I knew it, the jealousy brought about by my ever-worsening depression overtook my personality. I spent all of my time texting him, trying to keep his attention from wandering so that I wouldn't have to feel worse about myself when he came back talking about these other girls he'd messed around with, one of which was one of my dearest family members, my very close cousin. I lost myself so completely that I began inventing different little stories to keep him interested in me, and turned into a neurotic psycho- essentially, him. Soon after one of our very few visits face-to-face (in which I came back to myself enough to turn back into my once-shy, self-conscious self), he became "physically desperate", and began trying to pressure me into sending him sexual messages. Once he learned that I'd never physically pleasured myself in any way, he made it his mission to get me to text things of a sexual nature to him almost constantly, no matter how uncomfortable or disgusted I was with myself. Eventually, I just gave into the pressure, and that was all we talked about.
After a long time dating, almost a whole year of hell, he finally started calling me on all of my lies, to my heartfelt relief. I tried to deny them, but honestly didn't even want to anymore. I had lost the shine of a first love, and now thoroughly hated him: the only reason we were still together was because I told myself that this must be normal, and it must be my fault I'd changed like that. He had set the pace for our relationship, and I, unknowing, had followed. I told myself that he was my boyfriend, and I should love him, so I made myself do it.
Then I stopped playing along.
He told me he "needed some space", and he "didn't know how he felt about me anymore". He wanted time to think, but wanted us to still be "dating" (or whatever it was we were doing at that point). I can honestly say, I have never felt freer than when I told him "Save it, I've decided for myself. I'm so sorry we ever got involved, this was all a big mistake. Thank you for your time, but this is very much not working out."
Since then, I took some time to get on my own feet again, and completely banished the person I was then from my mind. The only thing that's left now is the intense, overpowering shame of all the things I've done, and a fear of dating. I don't ever want to become that jealous, lying person again, and so I've learned to close off from any potential dating situations. A whole year later, I'm a far better person, and have never felt better about myself, but I live in fear of getting involved with someone and becoming that again.
I'd rather be alone than somebody other than me.
Posted on 18.11.2012, 19:03:09 CET