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Finally happened.

Two months ago today, I broke up with BK. I tried to post about it at least once, but my fucking internet connection never works. I tried to talk to him... about how I was afraid to talk to him. At all, ever, about pretty much anything anymore. He got mean as usual. I was trying to explain something to him, telling him a story from the past about a time when he tried to start a fight in a way that would let him blame ME for starting it. The time I said I'd try not to take my stress out on him, and he muttered, "I won't hold my breath." I was scared to tell him this story, so I was trying to find exactly the right words, taking a while to say what I needed to say.

He hates when I do this. Thinks I'm not being sincere, when as a matter of fact this behavior on my part is a sign of my very sincere fear of talking to him honestly. So he held his arms out in front of him, bent at the elbows, palms flat and pressing against each other. He said "Get to the point, get to the point," making a sort of chopping motion with his hands. An aggressive, frustrated gesture, with a disgusted facial expression to match. His eyes were scrunched shut, his head sort of bent downward. I said, "See, this! This is what I'm talking about when i say I don't feel respected. This is disrespectful." He said he "didn't need the preamble" and basically that I spent too much time preparing to call him out. I blurted out, "I don't want to be with you!" I went ahead and told the story I'd been trying to tell, then said I was done. Tried to fight off the beginnings of a panic attack. I cried.

He got so mean that night. Told me he'd been waiting for me to break up with him. Fucking duh. I asked him, "Why did you stay with me so long?" He said, "I guess I was waiting for you to grow up." Guess all that growing I've done since we got together didn't count. I don't throw things anymore, don't slam doors. I have friends, I go out. I joined that choir that I was so afraid of joining. Nope, doesn't count.

After that night, he's been nicer. Nicer, even, than he usually was when we were still together. He hasn't moved out. It's been two months and we still live together. At this point our lease is up in another month, so he won't move out. I have been looking and can't find a July sublet for myself either. It's incredibly painful to see him every day. I didn't want to break up. I did it because I could tell he didn't want me anymore. That I knew nothing I could ever do would be good enough for him, because he needs to be with someone he can look down on.

I was doing better for a while. I don't know if it's because the two month date has been approaching, or because our would-be five year anniversary is on July 7th and fast approaching... But I want him back so badly. I have been crying about this daily. I miss so much about him. Mostly physical things, cuddling, kissing, sex, all the little things we'd do. His fingers in my hair, the looks we'd give each other, the soothing "couple voice" we'd use with each other. I miss him calling me baby or darlin', I miss calling him sweetie. I miss his backrubs, making out. I miss his erection against my back when we'd cuddle before falling asleep. I moved all my stuff out of the bedroom and into the tiny craft room, because the bed is his, and the craft room is on the side of the apartment where I can't hear my drunkass neighbors all night, every night. I mostly sleep on the couch in here, but every once in a while, I'll ask if we can switch for a night because I have back or neck pain, or cramps. I still smell his pillow when we're switching our stuff between the two rooms. When he leaves for work in the morning, I get up and move to the bed to sleep until it's time for me to wake up. The bed isn't comfortable without his weight on the other side. I still sleep on "my" side of the bed.

I occasionally ask him for hugs, and he obliges. I don't know how he feels about this. I think he pities me. But sometimes he thanks me because he misses the affection, too. Most of the time, after we hug, I got into my room and close the door and cry. I try to do it as quietly as possible, so he doesn't hear.

Things are incredibly bittersweet. On the one hand, I'm miserable and miss him tremendously. I worry that I made a horrible mistake, that I was just going through my usual winter depression and that I should have held out longer until the days got sunnier and my outlook improved. I'm resentful, because when he was my age, he was going through a horrible depression too. He was unemployed and making excuses for not looking for work. I was paying his rent, utilities, and phone bill (in case any future employers called), and buying the weed because he'd talk about suicide when he couldn't get high. He spent an inordinate amount of time playing Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas and watching cartoons, and reading about conspiracy theories. And then I go through a winter depression, feel unmotivated and hopeless and spend too much time playing the Sims 2, while still going to work and paying my share of the bills, and he's disgusted with my stagnation. Thinks I'm weak, thinks I'll never grow, that I'm a lost cause.

I realized something after we broke up. Years ago when he was tripping on something, either shrooms or mescaline, he told me that he had a sudden sense that one day I would become very "powerful". He said he didn't know in what way, or when. I think that after he told me that, I began my process of shutting down. It was too much pressure. Powerful how? Did he expect me to become influential? A shamanic priestess? Physically stronger? I felt like I had to live up to this, which was impossible because no goal was ever specified. And I felt like I had to grow according to his liking, instead of into my own person. I broke up with him because I couldn't take the pressure anymore to be whatever it was he wanted me to be. And it's incredibly painful to know that he doesn't want me, that I'm no longer what he's looking for.

On the other hand, breaking up with him pushed me to finally do something with myself. I started crocheting again because I realized the last time I really had any hope, any real happiness, it was when I was knitting and crocheting. My wrists still hurt, but at least I'm creating. I am working on a doily for PB's (at this point very belated) birthday, a hat for KK, and I'm designing a Triforce shawl for myself. I started fiddling with MSPaint and GIMP to make abstract images, which I've converted to desktop wallpapers. BK dismissed it as "DeviantArt". He just can't let me be proud of myself.

Most importantly, I'm getting out more. When I go to parties, I feel so much more at ease than I used to. I can talk to strangers. I even flirted with MY's friend J. It was a really nice experience, to flirt with a stranger again. I'm hanging out with KK and KC and MY. Mostly on weekends. I went to see Dillinger Escape Plan with LM, and we'd never hung out one on one before. I hang out with BRS more often. For a while, I was hanging out with KO, but I've mostly cut her off recently because I don't think she's supportive. I don't need judgment right now. If I have to sever every tie with every emotionally abusive person in my life, so be it. I'm tired of people trying to tell me to be someone else. I haven't even figured out who I am yet, and they already want me to change it.

I'm also getting back into exercise, and I even ran the other day. I hope to keep that up. I have plans to teach myself to draw soon, too. I'm writing poetry. I am trying to remind myself to create instead of feeling bad about myself. Sometimes it actually reverses the self loathing into pride. At the very least, it gives me a distraction since I have to focus so hard on my project.

I don't recall writing about this, but I'll be moving in with KC in August. I'm so excited. I want to cover the walls in crochet lace and needlepoint art. I want to make curtains, rugs, pillows, afghans. My room. Is painted. BLUE. And KC will be there! I'm expecting to meet a lot of people through her. And I've met my future neighbors, and they seem like pretty nice guys.

I just have to keep reminding myself that I will be okay. I don't feel okay right now. I bounce back and forth between hope and despair. Especially lately, I do not like myself, don't understand how anyone could ever like me, let alone love me. I have been thinking about suicide, more seriously than I've ever considered it before, but I'm not going to do it. I am in the worst depression I've ever experienced, as far as I can remember. JuD says that on top of my dysthymia, the breakup has sent me into a major depression. Wikipedia calls this "double depression". It fucking SUCKS.

I want to jump straight into another relationship with whoever will have me, but I know I can't let myself do that. Even flirting with J a couple of weeks ago, I recognized that what attracted me to him, was that he was attracted to me. Not healthy. For that reason, and because it's still way too soon, I didn't ask for his number. I wanted to, though. I think next time I see MY, I'll ask her about him, but I won't act on it. I'm sure I'll see him again at another party, or at a bar or something. If it happens, it happens, and if it doesn't happen, it was at least a really good experience to flirt with him. It reminded me that there are men out there who find me interesting, worthy of their attention. That not every man is going to be like BK and need me to be "better" in ways that he can't communicate.

Today, I'm feeling optimistic about the future. I think that once I move in with KC, after the initial transition period, things will get easier to deal with. One day, I will be completely over BK, and wonder why I put up with his mistreatment for so long. Today isn't that day, but it's heartening to know that it will come eventually.

1:23 p.m. - 2013-06-26

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.

BK and I almost broke up recently. We were up until four in the morning. I started to break up with him, then backed down. I said I was sorry for dragging him into this relationship, that I knew from the start that we were bad for each other and it couldn't last, that I knew how aloof and unavailable he was. To my surprise, he started crying. It was the third time I've ever seen him cry. We held each other and cried, and he said he felt guilty for hurting me all the time, that I was a good person and didn't deserve it.

God damn it. Why couldn't he have just gotten defensive and mean, like usual? I could have broken up with him right then and there. But to see him cry over me, to hear his confessions of feeling guilty, showed me that he does care, he does have remorse for treating me badly. All four years we've been together, I never once expected him to cry if we ever broke up. I expected him to get cold, like it was no threat to him to lose me. This whole time, and I mean the entire time we've been together, I've always assumed that he didn't need me, at least emotionally. That he was just biding his time until something better came along.

Almost breaking up made me realize how much I didn't want to break up. Does that make sense? Only after facing a very real possibility of losing him did I realize how much I wanted to try to work things out. But now I feel like there's no going back. It's been weeks, and things haven't been the same. We're less affectionate. We've been talking about living separately. I brought it up initially, because I thought maybe I could grow if we lived apart, and I can't get mad at him for not coming home if he doesn't live with me anymore. But after that night, I no longer wanted to live separately. He still does. He says he hasn't decided, but I can tell he wants to. I think he wants an out. I think he's been waiting for me to break up with him.

And I can't get other the LaSm thing. I'm going insane over it. I compare myself to her. I have this overwhelming urge to become her. I want to lose weight, so much weight, because she's skinny. Grow out my hair because hers is long enough to sit on. Straighten it because the last time I saw her, it was straight and looked so pretty. Wear makeup, because she does. Wear all black, wear scary looking ankle boots because Brad made this comment once that "LaSm said that if she had her way, she'd wear all black all the time," and another comment, "LaSm, I'm always bitching about the stupid boots girls are wearing, but yours aren't stupid, they're functional." I feel pressure to study philosophy, be an artist, because he likes those things about her. But I'd just be a copy, and that wouldn't impress him either, to see me completely change into someone else.

But still. Now I look at myself and I feel so ugly. My hair's so messy, I have these dark circles under my eyes, my skin's bad. I'm FAT. Fucking FAT and my belly is SO GROSS. It doesn't matter how much I work out. It doesn't go away. My waist gets smaller, my pants fit looser, but proportionally, I still have this disgusting pot belly! I want to take a fucking knife and lop it off. I hate it so much, and I can't even express that because he can't handle when I express insecurity. I feel like a failure as a feminist because I think I'm fat and am dieting.

I'm hungry! I am afraid to eat. I feel like whatever I eat will just add to the girth of my belly. I've been drinking too much. I finally have friends, real friends, but all they ever want to do is drink. So now I'm going out and not allowing myself to drink as often. I'm visiting family and not having any sweets, or really hardly any food at all because they all cook horrible, carb-heavy, processed food. My grandma's offended because I turn down her sweets. Offended when I say I'm cutting back on sugar, because she is fatter than me and diabetic, and doesn't watch what she eats the same way I am. I'm eating mostly fruits, salads, yogurt, very little bread. I'm fucking hungry and miserable and seeing no results. All so I can have a figure more like LaSm, and you know what? She doesn't even work out. She just has a job that keeps her on her feet, and doesn't eat much, I guess. I hate feeling like this. Hate feeling like I have to be someone else.

She skipped town recently. Didn't show up to work, and moved in with her parents. He was hurt, and clearly felt abandoned. He said she was the only female friend (the word "friend" seemed tacked on as an afterthought) who allowed him to be himself, who he could let his guard down around. It was a jab at me. He said she was unconditional with him. He always talked about how cool he thought she was, how "competent" she is. He doesn't think I'm competent. When I ask him, flat out, if he thinks I'm competent, or if he thinks LaSm's more competent than me, he dodges it. When she skipped town, she wasn't answering his calls or texts or facebook messages. He complained about what it felt like to try to get in touch and be ignored. What?! You mean like all those times I texted you, BK, at three in the morning, asking if you were going to come home, and not getting a response? Like all the times I woke up to sunlight and found your spot in our bed empty? And when I would try to talk to you about it, you'd say I was trying to control or change you?! Now you're mad and hurt that someone has done the exact same fucking thing to you? He said he wondered if she was just another boy she was playing head games with, like Knt and Kln. I asked him what he meant by that. Said, "I thought you said the reason you two were such good friends was because you weren't treating her like you wanted to date her or sleep with her." He said maybe she wanted to play mind games with the older boy. Really, because when you say it like that, it sure does sound like you want to date her.

So it sounds to me like he has a thing for her, right? And I've been tap dancing around it because I know he'll get defensive. I've been trying to give him space. Been trying to let him deal with his feelings of loss and abandonment, so I haven't brought it up yet. And it's been SO hard. The other day, he was obsessing about getting in touch with her because she didn't turn in her work key, and the boss was threatening to change the locks and dock her last paycheck. Okay, so I understand he's looking out for his friend and trying to save his boss the hassle of having to do all that. he kept texting and texting, logging onto facebook to see if she'd replied to any of his messages. That night, we went out, had a good time. Came home and got ready for bed. He said he'd be in soon, just needed to check his facebook to see if LaSm ever responded. I guess I looked sad, because he started trying to explain himself. "Sorry, it's just..." and launched into the story about the locks and the paycheck again. I already knew that story, so why'd he need to explain?

I feel like there's more to it than just the work thing. I think he has feelings for her. I almost got on his facebook tonight while he's at work because I want to see what they've been sending to each other, but I didn't because I didn't want any of his facebook friends to see his status showing as online while he was supposed to be at work. Seems like a surefire way to get caught. So I am going to ask him point blank. Explain to him that I've still been feeling insecure and scared, and that I just have to know once and for all. Yes or no, do you currently or have you ever had romantic feelings for LaSm? Let's see how he avoids answering with wither "Yes" or "No". See how fast it takes him to accuse me of accusing him of something. Whatever tactic he can find to try to throw me off course. And if he tries that shit, I will call him out. Yes or no, I asked.

And then if he says no, I'll probably still get on his facebook and check his private messages, if I can get into his account. Because I don't believe that he doesn't have some sort of romantic attraction to her. Something changed in their friendship and our relationship when she and DerS broke up. And if I find proof on his facebook, after he told me he had no feelings for her... Well that's all I need to finally kick him out.

8:46 p.m. - 2013-01-20

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Ugh.

We're still fighting. I'm scared. I think I'm bouncing back and forth between denial and terrified acceptance. One day, I think we can work it out, if I just overcome my insecurities and learn to be my own person. The next day, I don't think I can ever be my own person while I'm in this (or any?) relationship. We've been having very serious, long, painful talks about breaking up. We both say that we want to try to stay together for a while longer. But we're not happy. Haven't been for a long time.

Would I even grow if we did break up? I can see two outcomes. I might become reclusive, alienate all of my (his) friends again until I have no one left to talk to but my insane coworkers and my insane family. And shit, I have even started cutting my sisters off because I'm piss scared to get to know MLS (or to let her get to know me) and because I think BRS is cooler than me. Or if I don't become reclusive, I might just latch onto the next unsuspecting, charismatic underachiever who comes along. Someone who's as smart as me (or possibly smarter) but as lazy too, so I don't have to feel that bad about myself.

That's the whole problem, though. I feel bad about myself. I always have, the whole time I've been with BK. I feel like I can never be as good as him, which is absurd because he's not even better than me. He's probably smarter. He's less afraid of everyday life. He's more motivated to achieve in his own chosen fields of expertise, like drums or his various casual studies.

But he only seeks minimum wage jobs because he is either lazy, or lacks self esteem. I imagine both. He doesn't seek meaningful (or even gainful) employment any more than I do. That's supposed to make him less materialistic, that he's willing to take crappy, low-paying jobs for the sake of avoiding burnout at a higher-paying job, or whatever it is that he's trying to avoid.

But it also makes him dependent. On me, currently. And how's he going to afford the cost of living if we break up? He can't afford his own place. if he gets a room mate, and manages to consistently pay his half of the rent, it just proves that he's been using me. Spending money on weed instead of rent, or utilities, or car repairs.

My problem isn't money. I could afford this place without his help. I need him for everything else. Love, affection, validation, holding my hand through every tiny baby step. I need him to sacrifice, to have less fun, to spend time being bored with me because I'm too lazy/scared to leave the home as often as he'd like to. I need him not to stay out all night (which, come on, I think most people agree with me on this), respect my need for time apart while simultaneously ignoring that same need in himself, at my leisure. God, I've been so fucking selfish.

I need friends. Hobbies. Meaningful work. Yes, I do need love, I do need some external validation, I need companionship and affection. But it doesn't all need to come from him. This is what I've been realizing and it's been like hitting my head up against a brick wall each time I have to see myself acting so possessive and insecure. I crash headfirst into this wall, and then I have to spend a bunch of time yelling and cursing at it. Crying about it and defending myself, and then punishing myself, before I'm finally able to climb over.

BK's fed up with my slow, lurching growth process. He doesn't understand how I can't have grown more by now. He's in my way. I can't climb over him. He stops me every time. He doesn't mean to. It's not his fault I'm so obsessed with him. I feel awful for even dragging him into this with me. Maybe we could have both been happier, had I never invited him into my bed.

But, 'tis better to have loved and lost, blah blah.

I'm caught between regretting ever getting involved, feeling like the last four years has been a humongous waste of my time, money, and energy... And glad that I at least had the experience of knowing and loving him. And of being known and loved. I remember telling myself at the very beginning that this was a mistake, we couldn't work, we're both too crazy. And I think I was right, but can I really blame myself for trying anyway?

If I could figure out how to stop identifying myself through him, I think we could work. But I don't know how to do that, and I don't know if I can learn unless I'm on my own. And I don't know if I can handle being on my own. I just really don't know what to do. I don't do anything when he's at home. I don't clean, don't prepare food most of the time unless we're making dinner together. I don't sing, don't create. I just play video games, or watch him play video games, or eat food in front of some cartoons with him. I don't do anything when he's not home, because I'm too preoccupied with waiting for him to come home, asking him when he'll be home, fuming that he's not home yet.

Where would my life be if we'd never gotten together? Would I still have friends? Would I have latched onto some other guy? I don't think those questions are productive (we'll never know now, right?) but I still find myself asking them. I feel so much regret, resentment, and I need to learn to let go of that.

I have therapy on the ninth. We're supposed to do EMDR. I don't know. I really need to talk about all this, but I don't want to cancel the EMDR. We're supposed to work on changing the thought, "I'm powerless." Isn't what all this stuff with BK is really about, anyway?

9:22 p.m. - 2012-12-31

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Shit.

BK and I had another big, long fight. Me in tears, he irreverent and judgmental about my perceived lack of effort, thin skin, etc. Same as always. But this time I realized (for real this time) that I could handle breaking up with him, if it had to come to that. And I'm starting to think it might have to.

Motherfucker tried to tell me he didn't believe that I wouldn't kill myself if we broke up. Really? Fuck, you just really don't know me.

1:16 a.m. - 2012-12-18

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