Exboyfriends (Part I)

Whenever I explain what my blog is about I always get weird faces. This blog is about depression. I’m no doctor, quite the opposite, this piece of the internet is therapeutic for me but I always try to give some advice that may help you, dear reader. I couldn’t wait any longer to write this post, it’s time to speak about love or the end of it, ex-boyfriends. Tricky subject, please don’t judge.

I had a serious boyfriend for almost 3 years, we actually had in mind marriage… I must admit we started, at least from my side, quite innocently, and I never thought it could lead to anything serious. After a month it became clear to me he wasn’t the men of my life, he sensed it and tried to make things better, they didn’t and I faced him. When I was just starting to tell him that it will never workout he started crying* (pause for reaction). I didn’t know he had such deep feelings for me so I shocked, embarrassed and felt extremely guilty all at the same time. I gave him a chance.

After a few weeks he wasn’t feeling loved. This time he faced me… I remember listening to his complains telling to myself “I’m so selfish, look at him, he doesn’t deserve this, I’m not as  involved as he is”. Again the guilt made me remain with him and quite frankly I felt for him. We fought a lot, he was jealous, controlling… One of the things that bothers me the most is having people telling me what to do. During the second year of relationship I moved to Paris and we managed to make things work.. Kind of… My dad was concerned about the fact that two young persons in love and after not seeing each other for months weren’t excited to see each other. As a matter of fact when I was back at home he wouldn’t pick me up at the airport, we will always wait until the next day. 

Another year went by and during summer, instead of spending it with him I volunteer in Florence. Probably one of the best summers of my life. When I came back I saw things as they really were, I looked in the mirror and realize I wasn’t being myself, I forced me into becoming someone else to avoid the fights and to make him happy. It took me one month to tell him it was over. I was heartbroken not only because of the pain I caused him, I was also very much in pain myself. I loved him so deeply. The day after that I flew back to Paris, crying, devastated... I missed him so much… I kept thinking he will show up to win me back. 

He called to ask if he could come over to talk, I felt for it, he bought the ticket for a couple of weeks later. 

(*) We were in the middle of a big crowded street