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Soul Mate

Short Story

By Jeanette LearnPublished 6 years ago 36 min read
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Ten years ago I found my soul mate. He was beautiful in every way imaginable. He was my best friend, my confidante, my lightning in a thunderstorm, my angel wings. He was the easiest person in the world to talk to and to tell everything to. I felt as if I needed to tell him absolutely everything that I could about myself. He always understood. He always embraced it all as if it was his own but never let it make him feel angry.

He was the one that I would run to the telephone just to hear his voice and know that someone "GOT ME." He lived a hard life. A life that would make you wonder how he could be alive. And knowing that he was alive you would wonder how he managed to get through it. He had hurt people as his way of life. He hurt the few so he could help the many. That was his training, that was how he was expected to be. If he was not that way he would have died. I wondered every day what went on in his mind. His mind would probably make a grown man crazy.

Yet, in knowing the life he had lived, the things he had done was comforting. It was a knowledge that it didn’t matter the bad things that I had done in my life, he would always accept them no matter what. I knew me. I knew that I would screw up and I knew that I would probably wind up hurting him because I was what I considered damaged goods. But I knew in the very fibre of my soul that he would always forgive me. He knew I lived the hell in my head too. He knew that it took serious training to be able to keep that hell in your head under control. He understood.

Where no one in my life ever understood the hell, he did. Then we finally met. Never in my entire life have I ever been so nervous. Nervous in the best way. Nervous because I knew when I finally got to hug him that we would melt together. He GOT ME. The only person to ever have got me. It was a beautiful simple meeting and a wonderful evening. My nerves were so bad that alcohol was to calm them. Oh I wish I had never drank that night but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t mad. We ate steak and eggs the next morning in a restaurant. WE KISSED in my kitchen. That is how I became Kitchen Girl. That one kiss. That one kiss that defines who you will always be to a person. That kiss that determines if you will be forever or fleeting. The kiss like the movies where the girls’ leg goes up and her body gives away so that he is holding her up. The kiss you feel on your lips every time you close your eyes and imagine that moment for the rest of your life WE KISSED.

Well it doesn’t stay like the movies forever. He tells me he is dying. My world falls apart and I see everything going up in smoke but he is my soulmate. He goes home and I am left with a dilemma. I pray for him. I pray that his cancer goes away. I make a deal. I don’t know if I made it with God or the devil that night. I promised that I would stay away and give up being with him if he survived. I promised that I would only pursue the love I felt if he came back for me after getting better. I walked away

Funny how life works. It repeats itself over and over again until we understand what we needed to learn.

And we begin again. We meet in person again 7 years later. He lived and he is better. I have that chance to be with him that I never thought could ever be possible. My deal worked. I pursue my love and my happily ever after. Thing is that people change over time and nothing is ever exactly the same as you remembered it. No one is the same after time and experience of hardships. He lived through cancer. He lost the woman he was in love with. He was trampled on by many many people and found himself living a life he hated and was angry about because he knew he deserved better. He was bitter and angry.

Yet, he was still my best friend, my lightning in a thunderstorm, my confidante and my angel wings. So much bad things happening all at once, so much anger, so many lies to cover up so he could stay safe. So many precautions that had to be made just to stay safe because of what was going on in his life. So many that he and I would lose track of what was a lie for safety and what was the truth. I know that I couldn’t keep up so it always seemed as if I wasn’t listening or just didn’t care

One day I was fake pregnant, then an RCMP, then a detective, then a martial arts expert then… It was all to stay safe, it was all to keep away the drama and crap but wow when I look back now "IT WAS THE DRAMA." The fact that I couldn’t keep up with truth to coverups and when to be afraid and when I was overreacting. Life just became chaotic. But he was alive, I was with him and he loved me. My dream had come true. I was with my soul mate.

There were amazing times too. Times when we would kiss and I could feel the electricity through ever nerve in my body. I would melt into him when he held me that I could swear sometimes that we were one in the same. He would "GET ME" again. We would be living in our world of all honesty again. It was just him and I because as far as everyone else was concerned we were only who we said we were. Nothing about us was truth. It was coverups to stay safe.

Then I introduce him to a group of friends for the first time. I made the mistake of drinking and trusting the people around me. I have a big problem with that. I trust everyone that I meet 100% upon first meeting and then when they break that trust I just never ever trust again. I need to change that motto to trust must be earned not given freely. He did not break my trust although in the immediate heat of the moment I believed that he did. I became violent when he KISSED another woman. Violence is never the answer to anything and I of all people should know that. I have been beat up, punched, kicked, jumped, cut, strangled, threatened, raped, taunted, and so many others. I despise violence to my very core of my very soul but I became violent.

To this day I do not not where it came from but I despised myself from the moment I did it. I felt as if I had torn his and my soul in half. There was no going back from this although I spent a year trying. I had lost his trust. He had lost mine. Where once I would go to see him and he would treat me as if I could touch anything or be anywhere in his home changed to hawk eyes on me, calls to my friends about me going crazy if I even raised my voice. We didn’t even have to argue. If I got excitable then it was assumed that I was going crazy. He began a six month emotional relationship with the woman he kissed at the party. The only reason I found this out was because I finally did give in and do what I was being accused of constantly doing anyways. I read his Facebook. I found six months in conversations to the woman that he kissed telling her that he was single and I was a freak. Things he wanted to do with her and plans they were making. It never went beyond the computer but in my eyes it was cheating. How could it have been cheating though when that was his one thing in the world he would never allow himself to do. He would die first. I realized that day that he didn’t think it was cheating. Only I did. I couldn’t get mad at him for something he believed was a certain way. But I was mad because in my eyes it was cheating. But maybe it wasn’t.

Heres my thought process by now: He doesn’t trust me at all, I don’t trust him. I know where and how the trust was lost from him to me because I was violent and he is completely correct. Then again I am completely correct too because he should have stopped her from kissing him, he should have never been in a position, alone with a woman he just met went out for the first time with his girlfriend and her kids to make a woman feel as if she could kiss him and it be okay. Violence was never the answer but sadly enough. We were both right other then the violence. Both of our positions were valid and we had to move on. Yet now we didn’t trust each other. We didn’t trust our soul mate.

When you can’t trust your soul mate, it feels every day as if you have been ripped in half. You tear every conversation to pieces trying to think of what you might have said or done wrong. You don’t ease through seeing each other anymore. You become wary of each other. You don’t sleep with each other in the same bed as often, you don’t cuddle but you can still have times where there is fun I guess.

He drank beer and a lot of it. I felt out of place if I didn’t drink and I enjoyed drinking. Yet because of the party and the violence, every time I so much as had two drinks I was accused of turning flippy. I am an excitable person with a loud voice. I was accused of losing my temper when I wasn’t even mad or upset. I was accused of flipping out when all I was doing was talking excitedly. It made me afraid to even speak. So we got high. We smoked weed, took THC pills, took baclofen. He even showed me how to snort decongestant. We never did any of it until nighttime but it was every night. Heck to this day when we are together it is every night still. I don’t know if we know how to even get along without being high.

We stayed together. I drove to see him most of the time because he had a fear of being at my house and me going flippy and him having no way home. Once again the lack of trust. January came and his barn burnt down. His landlord had rented the barn out for a legal grow op. He was getting screwed over in the deal because the guy was stealing and selling all his stuff. He was really fucked up that night. He sat on the phone with me explaining that he was putting zippo fluid in a water bottle with a paper towel. In order for the grow op to burn it would take close to an hour. Then he got off the phone. Three hours later he called me begging to drive there because the barn was burning down and he didn’t understand how. There was never a cause determined but it changed him into a different man. A man that was capable of being mean.

We planned a trip for our six month anniversary, valentines day, to Cuba. Oh was I ever so excited. I remember the night before we left his house to come to mine before the airport. I had just finished my period and was worried about the flight so I put in a tampon. We had sex that night. I forgot the tampon. I was really high.

We left for Cuba and the excitement was almost unbearable. He warned me of drinking the alcohol and that it could lead to black out so I made sure that I was so careful. I had a pina colada that I dumped because it was disgusting. Then I filled up my container with rye and coke. A Cuban woman and myself shared it the next day after arriving on the way to the restaurant then I was told I had to leave it in the horse drawn carriage and that I was not permitted near the carriage by her husband.

I had 5 beers and a big plate of shrimp and plantains over a course of a few hours at the restaurant then we had to leave to go to the man’s sisters house for supper. On the way the wheel of the carriage broke and we had to stop to fix it. I pet the horse outside the house and went inside. Was told later that I was told to stop petting the horse and that the carriage was now broken because of me. The horse never went nuts and I didn’t even feel drunk so I could not understand but did not question it. After eating lobster, which I made a big mess of because I had no idea how to eat it, we left to go back to the hotel. We were dropped off in front and told we would be picked up in a few hours for the carnival. I took three big sips of the same rye and coke that had been sitting in the sun all day when my soul mate told me to dump it. He dumped it in the bathroom sink and I proceeded to get changed into the dress that I wanted to wear for the evening. I tried on my nylons and they ripped while I was standing in the walk in closet then I have nothing. All is black except bits and pieces.

I remember laying on my stomach on the bed in a black lingerie and he was rubbing my bum. Then I remember standing outside the hotel room door outside in my dress I had planned to wear. I was missing a shoe and there were two lawn chairs out front and a glass of something dark on the ground. I had no key, no purse, no Lewis. No nothing. I went to the front to request a key and went in the hotel room. My lingerie and clothing was scattered everywhere. Lewis was nowhere to be found. The safe was open and I was missing $400 in Canadian money. I grabbed my purse and walked to Enrique’s house, or tried to but could not find his house. I headed back to the hotel and on the way I ran into Lewis and Enrique and the group but Lewis was freaking on me telling me that I was never going to hit him again and that I was to have a vacation alone and to go to hell. I didn’t understand and he left me standing on the sidewalk by myself crying. I went back to the hotel room to look for pesos because I thought I might find Lewis in the disco. Took a shower and changed into shorts. Instead I ran into a man that Enrique had introduced to us and he walked with me to look so I would be safe. I could not find him and he allowed me to go back to the hotel. Out front of the hotel I ran into Enrique and he tried to convince me to walk the other way with him into town and that Lewis hated me and I should have a fun vacation. I said no and tried to go back to the hotel. I ran into another Cuban friend Osmel and he walked me to my room. I did not understand what happened. I had made sure that I wasn’t drunk. I had heeded all the warnings but I was missing so much time. I finally ran into Lewis outside the hotel room door around 2 am after searching the carnival for hours. We went inside and here is the story I was told. I have had no choice but to believe it because it is all a complete blank.

My nylons ripped and I freaked out, punching him. Then I tried on all my lingerie to get him to have sex with me for our anniversary. Then he went into the shower and I came in with a knife and tried to kill him. I remember NOTHING. I cried and cried to the point of hyperventilating. I told him on video that if I did do those things then it must have been a reaction from the stalker I had been dealing with for more than 4 years. He told me I killed him and he was a ghost and that he hated me.

Things that still have never made sense:

  • I tried to stab him but he left me alone with the same knife and two more the entire trip fully accessible
  • He had sex with me the next night in the hotel room bed while I faked being asleep the whole time and why would he do that if I tried to kill him, he hated me and was terrified of me
  • $400 Canadian and my passport was missing

The night before I was supposed to go to Havana with Enriques wife for 3 days to replace my passport it miraculously showed up in the safe apparently stuck to the side. I went through that safe top to bottom and scraped the sides more than 10 times a day and it was not there.

The snack bar was closed down when the guy behind the counter said to me “20 dolla for a good time” when I went to get us French fries the next day.

My dress was covered in jungle burs when I found myself outside my hotel room initially.

Why would Enrique try to get me to go to another town alone with him in the middle of the night?

I wasn’t drunk.

Bits and pieces that I have remembered since Cuba which was now two years ago:

I was on a gravel road with a group of men. One had bushy dark brown hair and a beard.

I was running.

I don’t have any recollection of anything else. Sadly though I lost his trust again and understandably. We had our vacation but most of the time I was left alone in the hotel room crying and eating grovel so I could sleep off the horror of not remembering how my entire life fell apart. Then we came home and my hell really began.

We smoked some weed to calm us after we got home and I had called my family from Cuba to tell them what had happened even though he said that if I did call them he would charge me with attempted murder and my family would take away my children. I needed help. He was so angry with me. He wouldn’t let up with getting mad at me and telling me that he was a ghost. I started crying and I couldn’t stop. I sat in the living room crying, then I couldn’t hear, then I couldn’t see. Someone called and ambulance and someone called my parents.

I heard him say that he couldn’t go to the hospital with me because of police and I can be charged I think but I’m not positive. Mom and Dad went with me. They gave me a shot of something and I calmed down enough to go to the bathroom. I peed and a tampon came out. I screamed for my mom and she told me to flush it. I told the nurse. I was admitted into the psychiatric ward where I spent the night.

The next day Don showed up and demanded that I discharge myself because he had to get a hotel room. My parents refused to let him take care of my kids. I called my mom screaming and did what I had to do to get discharged so him had somewhere to go. He still refused to leave the hotel room.

I have never lived down Cuba. I never will and he will never fully trust me. After Cuba he would call me at least once a week and dump me over the telephone while high and drunk. He doesn’t remember so it didn’t happen in his mind. That has always been our downfall for the past three years. I don’t remember and I never live it down but I have to accept that I need to jump in circles to make it better. He doesn’t remember and it didn’t happen so I have to shut up.

He went back to Cuba on his own to fix what I had messed up I was told. The first night he was there I was so scared that I drank until I was obliterated and I called the hotel more than 30 times. That was a big bad mistake because we were already doing really bad in our relationship and that made it a thousand times worse. For the next 5 nights he called me panicked almost every night saying that he had been drugged, mugged, beaten and who knows what else. I couldn’t wait for him to just get home and it all to be over with.

The next six months got really bad. The barn was gone along with almost everything he owned and had inherited from his father. He was calling me almost every second night messed up on drugs and begging me to come to see him for the weekend. He had told everyone that was bothering him through his ex that I was an RCMP so it kept the drama and crap away if I was there. So I was there every weekend. Later on this would come back on me as being a stalker, needy, clingy and smothering. I did not know that at the time. What was left in the barn he had in a storage bin in the driveway. He called me one night freaking out and messed up yet again saying that someone had tried to break into it and he had beaten them and wasn’t sure if they were dead. He went back outside to check and they were gone.

Another night we were partying at his house and really messed up again and he said that he strung a guy up in a barn in Cuba and slit his throat because I had sex with him while I was missing.

Then we partied with his buddy. His buddy was a pig. He would constantly try to grab my crotch whether drinking or not. Offering to have sex with me. But when he drank I was called every name in the book. We all had a lot of drugs and a lot of whisky one night and I apparently punched his friend in the mouth. I don’t remember. That’s the funny thing. I remember the party where I punched him and I had more to smoke and drink that night but this I don’t remember. I accepted that I did it and proceeded to try to make up for something else I had screwed up on.

If I could sum up the 15 months that we were in a relationship I would have to say it was me making up for mistakes. I was madly in love with him and would do anything in the world to have him trust me again. When he needed knee surgery because of an injury on his second trip to Cuba, I offered to have him move into my home temporarily and then find his own place. This is where I became clingy.

Now I got to see him every day. He had left the hell he was living in and all the bad memories behind in my eyes. What I didn't and couldn’t see at the time was that he was in love with me and hated me all at the same time. No matter what I said, he believed that I wanted him to live with me permanently and wasn’t going to give him any other choice. I didn’t know he had any money when he got here. We each got three credit cards and I had my OSAP. We blew it all. We bought landscaping supplies in the thousands so that he could start his own business here and I would help him. All the while I thought he could start the business and move into his own apartment or we could move out of here together. I would have been happy with either one.

By this point there was nothing that I could utter out of my mouth that he would believe. He convinced himself that I was trying to screw him and his credit because we had lost all ability to communicate effectively. We were screaming at each other every night. My parents were a huge hindrance. They were at my house every day. He kept yelling at me and demanding that I put them in place and butt out of my life. I finally did it and needed his help to stand beside me. Then came in the friends.

He had all my friends phone numbers and talked regularly to them. Voicing about how crazy I was going. Maybe he was right. I felt like I was going crazy. I could no nothing right. Nothing I said was right. Every time I wanted anything I was being selfish. By this point his cancer was back since Cuba yet I did not know how bad. He would puke blood then take me downstairs and show me. Then tell me that it’s my fault. He would be healthy if I would just do shit right. I even went to a summer pool party and he texted me all night while I was drinking pictures of him puking and pissing blood but demanding that I stay there. I cried in the arms of my friends at the time Kim and Lorissa while they told me he was being an asshole and to get rid of him.

Then Laura met him and my life went to hell. Of course he got her phone number too just like all my other friends. I was ok with that at first but it upset me that I wasn’t allowed to meet or talk to any of his friends but he was allowed to develop close friendships with all of mine. I did not know Laura thought that I had an affair with her husband and was not my friend. The next few months was her lying to him about me, telling him I cheated on him and promising to help him if he left. At the same time I was asking her to move him into her basement because he told me every day he hated being here. She was sick and he could help care for her then come back here on weekends. It seemed to be a perfect arrangement until the first weekend. That was Halloween.

He was already there and moving stuff in slowly. I had been there earlier in the day but went home to change for a Halloween party. He didn’t want to come because she was too sick. I forgot my smokes there and attempted to go back for them. He got mad. Then I didn’t hear from either of them and I got worried. One had MS, the other had cancer. I showed up without calling to check on them. I was told to fuck off and that he was leaving town because of it. We had a huge fight and broke up. He then moved the rest of his stuff into her house. Keep in mind I didn’t know she wasn’t my friend. She pretended to be my friend, almost my best friend for the next 3 months.

He went through hell at her house because I had told her that I suspected he poisoned me in Cuba. What else could I think at the time? He told me every day since Cuba that he was a ghost and despised me. No other explanation made any sense. But because of the hell and the reason for it I was blamed again. Something else I had to make up for by running in circles. But I was in love with him.

I contacted him in May of 2014 for mail that was at my house at which time we started talking again. He begged me to move him out of there telling me he was being tortured and raped and beaten. I moved him out instantly and back into my home. He was really sick and I was really worried. Therefore I became really clingy. I knew I shouldn’t be so I went to a friend of mine and told her everything that was going on so she could help me treat him better and he wouldn’t be so angry. He also got her phone number and they became friends. We stood outside in the back yard the one day and he bugged and bugged until I told him about her health issues. I thought I could trust him. He told her that I told him. He said that she had already told him and she probably did. I lost another friend.

He was really sick at this point but that’s the thing. He refused to update me on his health. The form of update I received every time was that my behaviour was killing him. That’s all I was told. That eats away at a person’s psyche worse than anything else you could ever believe. To honestly believe that you are the cause for someone dying. He once again spent the money that he had put aside for an apartment and got a hotel room instead. At which point I was blamed for not having any money to get an apartment. Huge fights with me becoming too protective and overwhelming ensued to which I had to ask him to leave my house permanently. Threats and bad fights on both our parts made it so that I had to go to a women’s shelter and send my children to stay with my parents until I could arrange a housing transfer out of town. He moved in with friends and I did not hear from him again until Dec 6th. The day before my birthday.

This man creates situations that he doesn’t realize he creates. When someone loans him money or does something for him, he creates a personal sense of obligation to that person. This sense of obligation is so strong that it becomes dangerous and detrimental to friendships and relationships. Because he has taken many psychology classes and life experience he believes that his opinions are always correct regardless of the situations this obligation places himself and other people into. I call it severe drama yet he believes that it is not himself that is creating this drama but the other people around him and he is the victim. He has it the wrong way. Yet at the same time he has it the right way too.

So we meet back up in December and he has lived through hell again. Moved from 2 different places to his female friends’ house. He proceeds to tell me that he prayed every night for me to come back into his life. He knows where we both went wrong and promises that he will never listen to the lies that others tell him in regards to me. Promises to protect me and the kids to the end of time. Tells me that he loves me more than anyone he has ever loved in his entire life. Desperately wants his own apartment so that he can either get healthy or pass away and not be in someone else’s house. So I take my money and I get him an apartment. Now I had spent almost every single day with him at his friend’s house for a month. The days that I did try to stay home he would call me and beg me to come back because I was his stress relief in the storm. I would go running because I loved him.

We moved him into his own apartment after a month and I spent the following two weeks at his house staying overnight. I tried to go home but once again every time that I did, I was called back. The days that I asked to stay he said no problem. I did not realize at the time that he was only saying yes because he felt obligated to. All the while beginning to hate my presence more and more and accusing me of being clingy and needy again. We fought bad this time again. I got seriously angry because these fights always seemed to come out of nowhere. I never expected them. I never even knew that he was angry. So when the fights showed up I would get furious because I could not understand what I had done wrong. He was also trying to help two other female friends during this time to which he has a way with women that makes them want to open and bear their heart to them. The one girl bore not only her heart but her soul as well. She fell madly and deeply in love with him.

The funny thing is that she reminds me so much of myself but worse. She is jealous to the point of scary. I have been followed and stalked. She knows everything that goes on inside and outside of his house. He is having an emotional relationship with her so regardless of how many times he tells her that he will not have sex with her, she will stand by his side and pursue a relationship. Because of the fact that she has helped him in a number of ways he has created the same sense of dangerous obligation to her as he has with me. He will not tell her no until he is ready to snap. Or at least he never did until just recently.

So now I am in a no label/no commitment relationship with a man who tells me he is madly in love with me. We have to hide our relationship because he knows this other woman is madly in love with him and he is apparently terrified of her. I am told to be terrified of her too. He gets stabbed. Calls me and begs me to come over. Tells me that he only wants me and doesn’t want the crap and drama of the other two girls. Gets off the phone with me and calls the other two girls. We fix him up and everyone proceeds to get drunk and high.

The girl that is madly in love with him, takes me aside all proud of how he just finished making out with her in the kitchen. I take both girls aside and call them out on being in love with him and tell them that we have to share him. In a friendship sense. They go and tell him that I made a bet on a threesome with him and pretty much auctioned him off. They also tell him that I made out with the one girl in a form of sexual assault. None of which actually happened but of course history repeats itself and he believes everyone other than the person he claims to be madly in love with. We fight again and again I am out of his life.

We start talking yet again but at this point he has jumped through so many obligatory hoops with this other woman, her child, and her family that she believes she is dating and in a relationship with him. The jealousy oozes. I cannot go to his house for more than five minutes before his phone starts ringing with the most annoying love song that she programmed into it when she hacked it. Yes she hacked his phone, his computer and even made her own set of keys for his house behind his back and without his knowledge. She prank calls him well into the hours of two and three in the morning. Every two minutes to ensure that no one can be there but her. If he doesn’t answer his phone then her life miraculously falls apart, people are following her and she feels as if her life is in danger. Yet this only happens when I am in his life. It makes the claims of being followed and fear that I am experiencing look like a jealous fit on my part and he ignores it. When it finally comes to a head I am the one to get blamed because she tells him it is my fault and the rumors that went around three years ago. Once again he believes someone other than the person he vowed to believe, gave his word to believe and claims to be madly in love with. We fight again and again I am out of his life.

At this point I have read a life changing book called Women Who Love too Much and it explains my desperate need to be needed. I need to protect him and take care of him because it is what is familiar to me. I have always been my own protector as well as everyone else’s. This is why I am smothering and clingy. I begin to understand myself and have done very well with backing off and letting him lead his own life since reading the book. Sadly enough his sense of obligation just brings her closer to him the further away I go.

Yet he claims to be madly in love with me and only me. He wants to spend the rest of his life with me. Then comes Easter weekend. He invites the sister of his ex fiancée down to fix the issues of stalking and following that Jen and myself are claiming to have. Funny thing. He plays boyfriend all weekend so that this other woman does not get the wrong idea, I stay away the entire four days. I barely call. His company gets pissed that he will not be with her and screws him over for food, money etc. This girl who is madly in love with him is a complete angel all weekend. By the end of the weekend everything that has been happening has been blamed on me. Of course, because she has been so beautifully well behaved, he believes it. I am in the doghouse yet again. Every promise he made to me back in December has now been broken and I am mad. I do not deserve to always be the person that everything is always blamed on. Yet that is always the case. I lose my temper and make him take his dog back. It happened to be at the same time that he was at the hospital yet I did not know that. That does not matter though because I have impeded his health yet again and I am flippy and a freak who is now hated again.

I try desperately to convince him of the drama in his life and how it affects other people but he will never understand that I am not jealous. How can I be jealous? In three years I have only had the man for 14 weeks that he actually wanted to be around me. The rest of the time I was killing him, hurting him, lying or god knows what else I was accused of. I don’t know this man. This man is not my soul mate.

Then I decide to have a rant day. Couldn’t even control it much as I was out of cigarettes and money. I needed to vent and I took it out on him. Tried to tell him that it wasn’t directed at him but that only ever goes so far. By the looks of it even a chance at a friendship is strained.

He is really sick now. I go through every day nauseous because he will not speak to me. Has decided to apparently tell everyone to go away while he concentrates on getting his health better. I really hope that he has done that instead of just me as usual. My only concern at this point is for him to get healthy. Jealousy is not an issue but anger unfortunately is. I have to back off completely because I am furious at this woman for manipulating a man so badly that he would put himself and the woman he claims to be in love with in danger simply out of the fear of her. I am angry that maybe that scenario is wrong and he really does think that little of me. I am angry because the man I am deeply in love with is dying and shutting me out. I am angry because I don’t know the man my soul mate has become.

My heart aches for him. I pray that he gets better and I’ve made another deal. This time I don’t question whether or not I’m making the deal with God or the devil. I know it’s the devil. But as long as he lives then I am going to have to accept that I cannot show him the love I ache to show him. All I want is for him to live. I’m pretty much leaving his life in exchange for him to get better. I am given no choice at this point. Until he can believe and trust in anything I say or do then all I am doing is helping to kill him faster and I don’t want that.

I love you soul mate and always will.

dating
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