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The original was posted on /r/twoxchromosomes by /u/HeresUrDarwinAward on 2023-08-01 01:41:31.
The relationship started out great. He took such gentle care of me. He did laundry. We cuddled a lot. He was my rock and I was his. I moved in with him. He would tell me he loved me when he thought I was asleep. His drinking problem massively improved because he was making an effort. He smoked weed, but I didn’t have an issue with it. My family loved him. I thought I was going to marry him.
But then the drinking problem slowly crept back in later. He started going on rants that were so loud and scattered it hurt my ears. He wasn’t being consistent with his anxiety meds. He would talk about how he wanted to fight or kill someone every day. He started hitting the dogs because they were “in the way.” He would tell me how crazy his exes were all the time. Everything and anything would set him off. He hated the shift bids I made at work. He didn’t want me back in school. Everything was a fast paced loud rant.
And then he quit his job. His reasoning was that his boss was shooting up on shift and he couldn’t be around that. And he would be broke for a few days, then suddenly have money, then broke for a few days, then have money, rinse repeat.
He finally informed me that he was making “deliveries” for a “fella down the road.” That he wasn’t asking what was in them, he just knew they were illegal packages. And he would make hundreds per delivery.
I freaked the fuck out. I work as a first responder and would lose my entire career and further schooling/healthcare licensure if he got caught and they thought I had something to do with it. So I very calmly asked him to stop. (I was scared to yell at him). He told me I was the queen of overreacting. He said if it bothered me then he just wouldn’t tell me when he did it. I let it go right then because I didn’t know how to further proceed.
I cried to my supervisor, a very seasoned paramedic, the next day. She told me “baby, if you go down with him there’s not a damn thing I can do to help you, and you know from all the training we take that if he’s hitting dogs, you’re next.”
So the next night I told him again, he had to stop, that he couldn’t hide stuff and expect me to trust him. He blew. Up. He said he spent the last 10 years trying to conform to what some “dumbass woman” wanted to keep her happy, and that he wasn’t changing who he was for no goddamn body.
So I left his house that night with only a work uniform and came back with my dad the next day to get my stuff. He tried to fight with me again. I didn’t cry once (RARE for me) and I yelled at him that I hoped I wouldn’t have to narcan some teen that he had delivered drugs to. He got pissed because I “wanted to play the blame game” and we threw all my stuff in laundry baskets and dad and I took off. The next day I went back for my laptop charger. He said he was sorry for all the hurtful bullshit he said and he cried. But I was done. I told him he had made it clear where I stood. I gave him my house key and let him hug me and I left again.
I was mad for a few weeks. And now it just hurts. Because I want to call him and scream at him about how I feel used, how his exes probably weren’t crazy. And how I feel like I was just his pet for sex and company. He was the first person I ever allowed to have sex with me. I’m almost thirty and he was that important. That there’s no way he ever loved me as much as I did him. I’m so mad at myself for falling for all of it and ignoring red flags.
But yeah it’s gonna be hard to trust a man again. And I still miss him and feel dumb for it. It keeps ringing in my head. That I’m just “some dumbass woman.”