How I Became Attached to the Man Who Cheated on Me

It's not at all how I imagined myself.

It's so far beyond comparison of who I thought I was, my values were, and the thoughts that formed me that it shocked me.

Apparently, the logic behind becoming attached or obsessed at times with someone is when you start to think of everything as "we." It could be yourself thinking that this person cannot survive without you, or vice versa.

It was my first time falling in love slowly. I was always the type to dive heart first and worry later. But with him, it was slow. I was at a period where I just wanted to go on lots of dates, without having to think about getting my heart broken. So while I spent most of my time with him, I forced myself to see other people too. It may sound weird to say "forced," but in my twisted way, I wanted to see if there was someone better before I could give my heart away. But despite it, I felt that he was the one for me.

He was kind, he had passion, he loved to talk, but there were thoughtful questions that came from his listening. I have a huge lazy side to me that I despise, but he was never lazy. He never complained either. If I had to get to work, he would go pick up McDonald's breakfast for us by himself. I think I was really touched by that. I start a lot of things, I have so many interests and so many things I want to do, yet I rarely finish anything completely. It's not something I like, but it's who I am. And he never judged me for those actions. He never questioned me.

I convinced myself that he was the perfect man for me. I felt so unconditionally loved and so wholeheartedly wanted to return it. I started opening up more—a lot more. I showed him sides of me that I had never shown any other person before. We were in a long distance relationship, since I was in Canada and he was finishing his master's studies in the US. We talked every single day other than the rare times one of us fell asleep early. He'd booked his flight back to my city for the winter holidays and a week prior to his arrival was me just basically waiting for him. It's funny thinking about it now because I wasn't doing anything for myself. Just counting the days until he would arrive and I hoped I would feel "complete."

Then, finally it was the day he came. I was so excited. I stopped by the bakery I love to get his favorite dessert. I packed a brand new blanket I had bought, chocolates, decorations, and a bunch of my stuff to take to his airbnb room. I made sure to wear something nice but comfortable, and put on the lashes he had complimented on before. Then I waited by the door as he made his way from the airport. Then the moment he was there, and carrying his bags, we kissed by the door. He was cold and smelled nice and his eyes were still super bright. I felt happy. I already felt more complete. Just from the way he looked at me, I felt so incredibly loved.

After settling in, he decided to take a shower. I asked him if I could watch something on his laptop. Now, I had never planned on it. But I remembered from when I used to hangout he had this one friend he always talked to. And sometimes they would talk about very lewd things, but as long as it wasn't offending anyone, I thought "men are men." My intuition told me to check, just on their chat conversation. So, checking that they hadn't talked in a while, I decided to scroll up a bit. I can't describe that feeling. It was as though the air slowed a bit. Everything felt a bit like slow motion, yet my eyes were in rapid shock. Things blurred as I saw him sending screenshots of his conversation with another girl. Another girl who was begging him for his cock. What was so terrible was his proud demeanor. The haughty way he told his friend, his laughing emoji as he said, "I didn't even last a month." I briefly considered pretending to have not seen it. I was so happy just a second ago, I couldn't believe that this happiness I had been waiting for could come crashing down like this. Still, I had enough strength to completely break down mid-way of stuffing my stuff back into my suitcase and then to point towards his laptop as he came back in. His first words were "Why would you do this?" Then he put his head down and sat far away from me on the edge of his bed, in utter silence.

I had hoped, maybe a lot, that he would have an excuse. That he could give me a really good reason. Even as I screamed at him for an answer, even as I left the room and called an Uber, he was quiet. Yet I was the one who called him. I was the one who met up with him to hear his meaningless excuses. I was the one who couldn't let go of the relationship. It became a toxic relationship, to the point he decided to end the relationship. And sure, I thought yes, I can do this. Then like someone who got pushed off into withdrawal, I couldn't stop crying. It felt like someone was continuously punching my lungs and I could barely breathe. I don't think I tried hard enough, thinking back on it now, but I begged him to see me again. And by being my sweet self I won him back. It destroyed my pride, but I thought, at least Im not in constant pain anymore.

We spent a good time together until he went back. We acted as though nothing had changed, when it had changed a lot. Then we had an argument about the tiniest thing and didn't talk for three days. I told him that I didn't want to be in a relationship like this anymore. He said he didn't want to as well. Then the day after, he sent me a long message, talking about how he was surprised I hadn't reached out or tried to mend the relationship. When he hadn't done a single thing, not once, not ever. Yet I was sent down a whirl of emotions and the pain I had been keeping in check burst out like a dam and I questioned on whether I would really be okay without him. This time, he stood firm and told me we should breakup.

What he did to me makes him a horrible person. It should never be excused. But I became so attached because I had been weak. I let him be my number one, when it should have always been me. I depended on him heavily and allowed myself to be put down continuously BY me. I am so so grateful that he put his foot down this time, that we were able to breakup properly.

I've been eating healthier, I've been spending more time with friends, I've been reading a book on how to become a "bad ass," and it's been really helpful. I feel better, happier, and a lot more mature. Because of him, I know what it's like to make someone feel loved. Because of him, I know I would never hurt someone like that. When I was in the middle of that painful time, time felt like something that would never pass. I had to read other breakup posts to know that I wasn't the only one who wanted to die. I felt helpless and weak. I didn't know this person I had become. But time does pass. Meet people, go outside, force yourself. Eat a meal even if your mouth feels dry. Time does pass, and I know that I've become a lot stronger out of it.