Slumped in my bed and propped up by a few cushions, I tried to pull back the tears. I needed to remind myself that sticking up for my long-term happiness was the right thing. Because I’ve been having a bit of a shit time with it since I did. I’ve been taking it worse than he ever has. I’m pretty sure he’s been on Tinder, sleeping with the girls of London. After all, what’s the point wasting time?
I opened up Notes on my phone and wrote a list of all of M’s sins since I’ve known him. There were some things I could brush off. But, there were others that, despite my best efforts, are completely unforgivable. I had tried but when it came down to it, I couldn’t put up with it any longer. The lies, and the lack of respect.
There will be an entire chapter on this in my memoir.
Writing it made me relive the gut-wrenching moments all over again. The way I found out over Skype that he had slept with a colleague’s friend, sentence after sentence revealed before my very eyes. The lies, all of them. The way he never said thank you when I sent him the suggestive photos he wanted. The way he completely ignored me for 48 hours after sending him suggestive photos. It reminded me of how sad I felt then, and how small and worthless he made me feel. But it was proof that, despite how hard this is right now, I did the right thing.
I look forward to a time when getting out of better gets easier, when one day, I don’t wake up with a sinking feeling in my stomach. I look forward to being stronger. Until then, and to anyone else who is going through the same thing, a friend said: You’re absolutely better than how you were being treated so don’t feel like you’ve lost something. I let go but I didn’t lose.