Notes

This is going to be a very long post, so please bear with me to the end. This is my account of what has happened and the way I interpret everything having to do with my relationship, or past relationship.

WARNING: Some descriptions and experiences below are explicit and NSFW. Proceed with caution. TLDR at the bottom.

Back in 2015 I met and immediately fell in love with a girl. She was a college student, and she would come to hangout and drink in the bar I worked at. We became close, and she eventually had to make a choice between me and another guy she was interested in, but had known for longer. The sparks flew when we first were dating, and everything seemed so perfect. Yes, it was love at first sight for me. Cheesy, but I know even now that it was true.

At the very beginning, we disclosed so many deep and personal aspects of ourselves. This was incredibly difficult for her, as she distrusts most people and has difficulty opening up to them. I, on the other hand, have always been an open book. Anyway, I confessed so many things about my life. That I had been battling depression since I was a teenager, and even attempted suicide after finding out that a former girlfriend was cheating on me. I also included at the start, though it was nerve-racking, my interests in fetishism. Being that I have almost no limitations whatsoever, I felt that it was necessary to include before entering a relationship. Aside from that, I told her plenty of other important details. Like my father having passed away due to cancer earlier that year, past relationship issues and trauma, fears and phobias, etc. Nothing was off limits, and I made sure to let her know who I really was deep down. No secrets.

Likewise, she confessed in her own way. She is a writer, an English major, and preferred to put her thoughts out on paper. So, she wrote me what felt like a novel, and I read and interpreted it. She went into detail about past trauma from abusive relationships, as well as having been cheated on, and cheating on someone. Going so far to admit that she could even cheat on me. She went on to elaborate, describing in detail her experience with a former significant other who sexually violated her. Which, later, would become an even more relevant topic for the two of us. Elaboration on her family issues, attempts at suicide, self-harm, experiences with toxicity, bisexual orientation, trust issues, genetic disorders, and more followed throughout the letter, and through conversation. Nothing she ever said pushed me away, or scared me. I was always confident that as long as she loved me, I would happily be by her side.

The relationship she had with this other man became a problem for both of us. She couldn't decide at first who she wanted to be with. Her decision process took most of the summer, and was met with waves of emotions and passion from both parties crashing against her. One particular evening, after she had invited me over while he was visiting, I noticed a condom wrapper in the trash. I stormed out, nearly broke my hand hitting a tree, and went for a walk. Eventually, I came back, and we got into a heated discussion. After all, she had told me that she was thinking of telling him that she was done, and was going to choose me. I have a history of anger management issues, but I would never hurt someone I love...apparently only myself, when I hit inanimate objects. That afternoon, we came to a reasonable agreement, that we both loved each other, and that she would tell him. I apologized for the way I reacted, but also let her know how much it hurt to find that after having been told that I had her heart. After long late-night discussions, intimate evenings, and a heavily drawn out process of elimination, she told him, and she took hold of my heart. Relief washed over both of us, and the passion and emotion we had expressed behind closed lips could finally see daylight. Though, we never officially declared our relationship until Halloween of 2016. We wanted our anniversary to match with the night we first met.

Fast forward a little, and we had been together for approximately three months, officially. Early on, she told me she was unsure of whether or not she could involve herself in my kinks. Though, she understood the importance of them, she didn't share those interests. By this time, she expressed that she actually couldn't see herself partaking in any of them. Rather, it felt as though she had gotten my hopes up, and then decided to give up before ever trying. This impacted me very negatively, as sexual compatibility and fulfillment is also very crucial to a healthy relationship. For someone who is so involved in fetishism, it can be one of the most defining details. We discussed this for some time, but it always seemed to get worse. This caused a reaction from me, and led me to become passive aggressive and doubtful in the future of our relationship. Though, I loved her and never doubted that for a moment, I still had my own needs of which to be aware.

January 25th of 2017, I made a mistake that continues to haunt me to this day. Using an alternate Facebook account I set up for sharing with like-minded fetishists on a platonic level, I made a post. I stated that I had no interest in "vanilla stuff", and that I wanted something more kinky in my life. Which, wasn't entirely true, as this girl I was with was literally the first person able to get me to achieve a climax. I always enjoyed making love, regardless of whether it involved my kinks or not. Anyway, I went much further. I asked aloud to those I had befriended if anyone was like me and craved my fetishes as much as I did. Asking if any women wanted to do something with me that was far from "vanilla". When I did this, I never sought a response. All I ever wanted was validation that I could leave if I wanted to, and that I wasn't stuck. I didn't want to give my heart to someone for years, and be stuck in a position with children, marriage, or other such commitments, while not being satisfied. That would not be fair for either of us. No one ever replied, and I never followed up with any action. Even after the posting, I stayed with her because I wanted to work it out and be there with her always. My love was never brought into question. In time, we would eventually ease into my kinks, and some even became a semi-regular occurrence. Though, she never could commit to some, and informed me that she wouldn't be able to do that for me. The rest seemed to be okay, but she never really enjoyed any of it. Understandably so, but at least she was willing to meet me halfway. I never ceased in my desires to further our experimentation, and would occasionally state that "it would be nice if you would" or "if you ever surprised me with ____, it would make me so very happy".

Unbeknownst to me, this became an internal struggle for her. She wasn't ever interested in my kinks. Though, she had a few of her own, she only ever admitted to a couple. Again, alluding to her distrusting nature, and inability to open up. As time went by, she would continue to react to my comments or mentions of kink with disgust and minor derogatory gestures. Often times, she required alcohol to free up her inhibitions, and allow herself to partake in my interests during sex. I recognized this as a potentially harmful means to handling it, but she insisted, and I wanted to support her decisions. Later, I will go further into the topic of her self-medication. We were relatively open about our sex life, and she expressed that she supported me and my interests. That she wanted to give me what she felt she could. However, later I would find out that she called me a "weirdo", and considered my kinks and personal interests to be gross. Followed up with plenty of other unfavorable descriptors.

Now, onto the self-medication aforementioned. Being a bartender in this small college town, she would very often come see me at work. We would drink together, and spent many nights and moments involving alcohol in each other's company. After she had chosen me over the other guy, she tried to maintain a friendship. He became inconsolably and erratically emotional. His friends, who were also her best friends, decided to take his side and defend him. They abandoned her, and she never forgave them. As it turned out, the guy was taking a mental disorder to try to earn her back and make her feel guilty. So, due to all of this and her pre-existing depression, she began to drink frequently. And in very copious amounts. I would often bring her home drunk, and put her to bed. Though, we also used the lack on inhibitions brought on by her inebriation to open up and experiment in bed. We agreed beforehand that this was consensual, and she preferred to be a little drunk before engaging in any of my kinks. As such, we would sometimes mess around while she was intoxicated. But, this became a serious problem. I recognized that it was feeding into her depression, and that she often would become relatively toxic and/or extremely emotionally unstable. As much as I tried to remedy the situation, it only got worse. To the point where she eventually dumped all of her depression on me, and expected me to handle it for her.

Time continued on, and our relationship with it. We were so incredibly happy with each other, and even moved in together. We adopted a tiny kitten I saved one fateful night. Everything became shared, and our love grew substantially. Though we, like any other couple, had our own issues of varying severity, we were an amazing pair. Sure, our issues obviously would become increasingly worse as time went on. However, I was always open and very direct, and thus I focused on handling situations as they arose. The above mentioned self-medication, depression, and toxicity didn't become a real issue until after we moved in together.

Never did my love for her waver, nor did my support. Through everything, I always was there and willing to help or pick her up when she fell. Though, I must admit, my own issues became a problem as well. Her depression seemed to fuel my own, and had an increasingly negative effect on my mind. My anger issues also became worse, as I would express my anger and frustrations in front of her. I would never react violently towards her, but I would snap at her and occasionally be rude. For which, I would immediately feel guilty and apologize, recognizing that I had done wrong. She was scared of anger, and couldn't handle it. So my anger became a point of conflict between us. Over the course of about a year of living together, we would develop other issues in addition. Nothing major, but little points of confliction that needed to be addressed. This fed into the summer of 2018.

She and I became part of a local group of friends. Most of them were my friends from years prior. We would join them for an annual vacation to a medieval festival and reenactment. Our first time visiting was the year before. This year, we went into it with a few unresolved problems. I couldn't get time off for both weeks, so I could only tag along for the second one. The girlfriend sprung on me the surprise news that she was no longer only going for one week, but instead for the full two. I was a little upset, but I got over it. The issues we faced mostly included distrust due to another friend of ours developing feelings for her, and she often would spend time with him (I suspect that she also had some for him). The other issue of grave importance involved a specific intimate night, which would lead to her blaming me of sexual abuse.

One night, she was incredibly drunk, and I was entirely sober. We had talked about making love earlier in the evening before drinking. After getting her home, she reverted to what I called "Hurricane". The reason for this nickname was because whenever she would get this drunk, she would become belligerent, her emotions unleashed, her lack of inhibitions would shine through, she needed physical support to stay standing in many cases, her lack of balance and coordination would lead to breaking things and knocking them over, and plenty more. Anyway, it was a particularly "stormy" night, and I eventually got her into bed. My intentions were to simply put her to bed, but she had other plans. She asked if I wanted to do it. Which, I admitted that I did, but I told her that it may be a bad idea. She insisted time and time again, and I continued to ask her if she was sure. I eventually caved, and what we had was incredibly sloppy, but fun. We discussed me putting her in a diaper as well as her using it for me, but she wasn't sure. So, I put it next to us on the bed. We continued, and when we finished, we cuddled. Shortly after, she fell asleep. Normally, she would be sure to put underwear on beforehand. She explained long before that this was due to her fears of getting an infection, and due to her own personal comfort. I searched for her underwear in the immediate area, but they were nowhere to be found. Funny enough, I didn't ever pay attention to them after removing them whenever we had sex. Imagine that. Instead, I saw the pull-up on the bed next to us. So, I hesitantly put it on her to give her something, anything really. I was tired, and given the circumstances, I didn't think anything of it at the time. This choice of undergarment may have been a mistake in and of itself. So, after clothing her, I felt asleep with her in my arms.

Wake up the next day. She is immediately upset with me, and confronts me about the night before. She becomes increasingly hostile about the situation. Unfortunately, she had no recollection of the night prior, nor of any consent. I expressed to her my feelings and knowledge of the events. Hearing me through, she insists that I took advantage of her. That she didn't consent to what we had done. I went into extreme detail about everything that happened. She then also refers to the pull-up, and gets even more upset with me. I admit to her that I didn't think it through, but that it was available, and that I had her best interests in mind. I meant no harm, and didn't impose my kinks on her. It was just a form of underwear that I selected given the circumstances. The rest of the time she continued to blame me, and said that I had sexually abused her. Perhaps it was a bad judgement call, and I should have just told her no. However, I never violated her, nor did I cross any lines in having intercourse that night. The only possible genuine mistake I made would have been the diaper. Even that, however, remained a possibility, but was only used for the purposes of providing her underwear. Nothing more.

To this day, she holds that against me. I know what happened that night, and I know that I didn't cross the line. I never violated, abused, or took advantage of her in any way. I'm willing to accept that it was a bad judgement call, but it's not what she makes it out to be. I believe this is something much deeper within her own mind. That regardless of me, this is an unresolved issue that I received the blame for. I would never, ever, do anything like that. Like the man who actually did violate her years ago.

Back to the summer now. We had these unresolved issues, and they followed us to this event. I had worries, and with what had been going on between us, felt validated in my reaction. She became distant, and sought more space to do whatever she wished without my involvement. I had become a little clingy, and worried that she had other intentions. Given that this event had thousands of people, tons of alcohol, and plenty of open minded and free of taboo practices and ideologies, I was worried that someone might take advantage of her. That due to her frequent alcohol-abuse, she would lower her inhibitions and fall prey to someone else. As there are many people who partake in extremely liberal practices while there. I checked in with her everyday and expressed extreme interest. When I came to visit myself, she didn't behave like she had even missed me. I became emotional, and throughout the entire time we were there, we had intermittent issues. We met someone who became close to both of us, and we even confided in her the details of our recent relationship issues. The time came to pack up and we came back home. Shortly after arriving, the girlfriend prompted me with a proposition.

Earlier, she had prompted me with the idea of possibly opening up our relationship, or adding another person. I have always been strictly monogamous, and have been cheated on. Even though I knew I didn't want it, I considered the possibility. The proposition she gave me upon arriving back at home was to include this person we had become friends with. I expressed that I had no feelings about that other person, and that we hardly even knew them. That I still didn't feel comfortable doing anything with anyone else, or allowing her to do the same. Her insisted plan of including someone else kept raising flags in my mind. I prodded her for insight, checking to be sure that it wasn't a desire to attach herself to someone else. I couldn't handle the thought of her leaving me for anyone else. Especially not if that was someone I consented to sharing our sexual relationship with. Now, I don't even believe I would be able to ever do this. I'm willing to invest the trust, but I don't think I could handle seeing or imagining my significant other with anyone else.

It wasn't until September of 2018 that she even found out about my Facebook posts. Shortly after we came back from the medieval event, she found my posts on my computer while I was at work. I came home to her on the couch, and she looked very upset. She told me to sit down. For the next hour or better, she told me what she had found, and accused me of possibly cheating on her. I told her what had happened, and that it meant so little to me that I didn't even remember the posts themselves. That I never cheated on her, and that I only sought validation in myself. I must have apologized a hundred times. I broke her trust in me, and hurt her. Whether or not I did anything is irrelevant. We argued and emotionally responded to one another until we reached an agreement. She asked me what we should do. Though she suggested ending the relationship, I knew that I didn't want that to happen. We agreed that we would ride it out, and if things improved we would allow for that improvement. That we may eventually call it off and end it when the time came.

Over the next couple of months, everything felt like a mess. I had an conflict at work which resulted in my leave, and a start at the same workplace as the gf. We started becoming close again, even feeling a lot like we did way back before all of this shit happened. Yet, our problems remained unresolved. Our intimacy last year went from little-to-none, to completely non-existent. However, in some ways, it felt like things were also improving slowly. We were looking to move, and had our eyes set on a few different cities. Our plan was to leave by the end of the summer of 2019, to allow us plenty of time to settle things and build up enough sustainability to be able to leave. Plus, it would allow us time to work on our relationship. This sounded like a great plan, but she had ulterior motives, and many secrets.

December became so much more than a month. In short time, it would become a defining moment in both our lives. She hinted at the idea that we could be leaving even before the end of the year. Which, turned into the possibility of just her leaving. I begged her not to go, and insisted that we could work things through. She humored me, but secretly she had already made up her mind. Early in the month, she disclosed to me her plans to visit her cousin in Denver. One of the cities we had been considering. The night she was supposed to leave, I caved on a feeling I had been having for weeks. I've never invaded someone's privacy like this before, but I opened her phone and read through her texts. What I found derailed everything, and broke my heart.

She had two contacts that she had been extensively talking to. One, a co-worker, and the other was simply named "Orange Soda". The discussions between her and "Orange Soda" seemed to be happening a lot, and they seemed to message each other fervently. I noticed that when we would be sitting together and watching a show or movie or something, she was always on her phone and seemed to be messaging someone. I asked, but never seriously pried for any information. It was semi-flirtatious, and it could have even been taken as a friendship alone. However, when I referred to the texts between her and the co-worker I realized it was so much more. They discussed the mystery boy, and the co-worker showed support for her to engage with him. Even more, she condoned being flirtatious in return, and suggested that she date and make-out with him. The gf responded telling her that she made plans to go home for the winter break with him. That they would go out on a date, and she would in fact make-out with him.

I was broken hearted, and couldn't contain myself. I took her luggage and dropped it at the bottom of the stairs in the snow. I threw her phone across the street at a building, and it broke. Then, I returned and shoved her precious teddy bear into her chest as she slept on the couch. The next half-hour to an hour was filled with us screaming at each other, crying, and so many emotions. She dressed in a slutty outfit and, I threw her out of the house. As she walked out into the cold night, I returned upstairs and slumped against the wall, fell to the floor, and cried uncontrollably. I eventually gathered myself enough to go driving for her fearing that she would walk into town without warm clothes. I didn't find her, so I came back. I found her back in the apartment. We talked, without yelling or screaming, and said we would not talk until she got back. The next several days, I was a disaster. I spent them either laying on the floor crying, laying in bed staring at the empty side crying, or sitting in a chair staring at a noose and crying. I got really good at tying knots.

When she came back, she found me sitting in the chair in the dark. The noose was gone however. I chose a noose because it symbolized so much more. She can't even look at a noose, as it is relates to trauma from her past, but that's why I picked that. We sat down together, and we talked. I had written her a very long letter, and left her alone to read it. To summarize its contents, I told her how much I loved her, what I had done wrong, and that I was capable of being so much more. That I wanted to rectify my mistakes, and be a better man. I begged her not to leave me alone in the dark. After reading it she joined me in our bedroom. She told me that she had found an apartment, and she was leaving for Denver. And that I couldn't come with her yet. She wanted to take a break, but that we could come back to this relationship later. We also discussed what I had found in her phone, and she insisted that nothing had happened, and that she wouldn't have cheated on me. I didn't believe that last part. Since I had no other options, I agreed to the terms, and we started our break.

With no better options on the table before me, I moved back in with my mom, and have been working on myself since. For a period of time we stayed in contact. Admittedly, I texted her quite frequently, and was still a bit clingy. I've never done anything like this before, and given the context, it has been anything but easy. Since then, I've focused heavily on improving myself. Reading more, keeping a daily journal, writing a lot, working out (lost approximately 10 lbs. and a waist size), cutting back on soda, eating healthier, starting at a new full time job that pays really well, going to counseling, reconnecting with friends and family, minimizing my possessions, working on personal projects and trying things I've never done before, and much, much more.

This all sounds pretty good, doesn't it? Well, aside from my vast improvement, things haven't been so easy. Every single day is a struggle, and I'm still learning how to handle it.

We kept in touch, but we haven't been close. Sure, the beginning of January seemed tolerable, but it eventually fell apart. I was still clinging on, and she wanted space. I would react to some of her posts online or what she said or did unfavorably. For instance, I saw one of her posts she made about harming herself, and not having health insurance to visit the hospital to get help. She thought she might have given herself an infection in the process. I checked on her to be sure she was okay. Another example includes my passive aggressive reaction to her talking about someone who might have had a thing for her. It was childish of me, I know, and I apologized immediately after it happened. Lastly, I wish to cite one night in particular. She had an interview the following morning, but had put off taking a general online assessment for it. When she went to take it, her computer gave her troubles, and she freaked out. I tried to console and help her through it. Instead she became irrationally upset, and directed her emotions onto me by insulting me and treating me like I had done something wrong. I tried reasoning with her, but as she kept getting worse, I wished her luck and told her how awful she was treating me. She eventually got back to me and apologized for her behavior.

Shortly after she moved to Denver, one of our friends made the decision to move out there as well. And since he needed a place to stay, she volunteered. At first, this sounded like a great idea, and I was in favor. Yet, I would later find out that he is not actually gay, and that he began to develop a crush on her. Knowing our situation, and being one of the closest people to it...he violated my trust. I can't help but feel that he picked a side, when no one wanted him to. Honestly, it feels a lot like what her friends did to her when she chose me over the other guy.

Since sometime in January, we've had continued problems. She wants space, and I'm giving her that much. At first, I still would message her plenty, but she insisted I back off. So I did just that, but I didn't want to entirely. I started sending handwritten letters, as I felt that she might appreciate a weekly letter as opposed to an everyday text like I was doing. She seemed to be okay with the letter idea. And I've given her plenty of space, and refrained from sending her a single message in several weeks. But I still think about her every single night and day.

She was kind enough to call me on the 12th of February. It was the fourth anniversary of my father's passing. She knew it would be difficult for me. She also sent me a few messages about the gifts I sent her for Valentine's Day. I sent her an orchid plant, preserved rose, and another letter. The orchid was meant to replace the orchid I had given her a long time ago which unfortunately died. Too bad that when she opened the box, the flowers of this orchid were already wilted. I have no idea if she kept any of what I have her, or if she just tossed it away.

One very important note before I continue any further. Before she left, I gave her my father's wedding band to hold onto. It means a lot to me, and I swore on that ring that I would one day marry her. She told me she still wore it sometimes. I can only hope she wasn't lying.

Now, it has been a while since we last spoke. But I've had time to think, and time to assess. Thanks to my wonderful friends, family, counselor, physician, and others who have helped me through this. Whether it be advice or just someone to listen to me talk. However, thanks to them, I now know so much more than before. And I've come to realize quite a few things. Due to my own morbid curiosity, personal reflections, and skills as a detective, I've figured out plenty more on my own.

I've realized that she is the one who has wronged me. That my feeling sorry and terrible for myself is not necessary. I take responsibility for my own actions, but I should never blame myself for the way she treated me. She always had her issues, sure, but this recent edition of her shows me that she needs to work on herself. That she is the one who needs therapy most of all. She owes it to herself. I don't know exactly what it was that made her so bitter and cruel, but this isn't okay. She abandoned her friends, family, and me when she left. All we ever wanted was to love her, and support her in life, and it seems she has turned her back on all of us.

So, I am faced with the hardest decision I've ever had to make. I know it's not fair, and I can't fully blame either one of us. But, I don't want her to hurt me like this anymore. I deserve so much better than this treatment. I'm done with the lying and infidelity. No more toxicity, abuse, or villainizing. I will not be her excuse anymore. It's time she grows up, takes responsibility, stops playing the victim, and becomes the best person she can be. I know that if she can do that, she will realize that I am right. At least, I hope she will, for the sake of my heart.

I will always love her with all of my heart and soul. I gave her my heart the day I met her. Unless someone else walks into my life and changes my mind, there it will remain. My hope is that someday soon, she will get better, realize what she did wrong, and forgive herself. Once she can free herself, then and only then will I be willing to return to her. I can't hold her heart any other way.

I am letting go. This isn't a goodbye...this is a see you later. When you're healthy and happy and have forgiven yourself. I love you, forever and always, my Jellybean...

TLDR; The only simple answers are to simple questions. This is not one of those.