My Love Story (Part 3)

After I had my daughter, my ex moved into my apartment with my mom and I. It was the start of a new beginning. The reason why my ex moved in was because I needed help with our baby. Also, he would get the chance to be a father to our daughter. I stopped going to school for one semester to focus on my daughter and my ex was still in school and working, and also he would constantly hang out with his friends.

Early in the morning he would get ready for his classes. I would go onto his phone to see what he's really up to and he would make plans to spend time with his friends, then spend time with his newborn child and help me as much as possible. That didn't matter to him. Every night after work or hanging out with his friends, he would come home tired. He would spend a little time with our daughter, but he would have to go to bed. We'd all go to bed, but I would sleep out in the living room while he was in my bed. Why? Because he would get frustrated with me when the baby was crying. My daughter cried at the time every night which was at 2:30-ish in the morning. I'd lay on the couch with her on my chest or I'd put her in her rocker. When she would wake up, I'd hurry to change her diaper and try to put her on my breast. My breast milk wasn't enough for her, so as she's crying and crying, I would hurry to make a bottle for her. I had juggle with her as he slept comfortably in my bed. His excuse; I have to get up early in the morning to go to school. This has been happening until I told him to make an effort in being a parent or else he cannot stay at my apartment. Slowly, but surely, he did. But that meant us going out on "dates" every week and I was a replacement for his friends.

When my daughter was about a month, I looked through his phone and he had a friend hook him up with a girl that his friend knew. I was heated. I confronted him about it and I got so mad that he's trying to move on while he was living with me AND just had a baby—that he barely got to spend time with. I was so upset to where I threw his phone at the wall and it created a hole.

I became depressed. Maybe it had a lot to do with postpartum depression, but I still loved my ex and I was devastated when he was trying to be with someone else again. And all I wanted was for him to want to be with me. I didn't want to see him move on and I became suicidal. I would rather die than watch him move on from me. We constantly had fights and arguments about something. Then I starting becoming physically abusive and, later on, he did too.

He didn't like being around me to where every time I would talk about something, he wasn't really listening or he would look at his phone like I wasn't talking. I would confront him about it and he wouldn't say much—not even a sorry. He would look at other women as they would jog down the street while he's driving while I was still there. And I would ask him if he could please stop because it makes me uncomfortable and he says "... and that bothers you?"

For months, I was carrying a load of hurt over my shoulders. I tried to stop feeling sorry for myself so I went on anti-depressants and made sure that I stop being abusive. And I did!

I distracted myself from all of my hurt into being a housewife. I cooked a meal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Every night when he'd come home from work, his dinner was always ready and warm. I would do his laundry weekly. I'd help him with homework when he lost his motivation. I even would take over his work when he could put any more brainpower into it.

I started to invest myself in him; I started listening to his favorite bands with him, supported him on his video games, and I would listen to every nightmare that he had as he would wake up in the middle of the night knowing that I had to get up at 5:30 AM. I even bought his favorite band tickets that were once in a lifetime because it was the band's last tour. When I got off from work, I would surprise him with Chipotle every once in awhile when I got home. When he was at work and hungry, I'd come to his job with food. The list could go on and on. I did all of these things for him, just so he could notice me, but it did nothing. Everything that I've done for him, he couldn't do the same for me.

I started to lose myself.