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Why I Disappeared...

He stole from me.

I think I’ve said goodbye to so many people in my life, to the point where the only place I feel comfortable enough to turn are these pages. I mean I’ve loved and I’ve lost and yes, I have moved on and become this whole other person, but I thought when I felt my lowest of lows that I’d always have a place that feels like home, and I think that’s what’s making this so much harder for me. I turn around and everyone is busy and bustling about their own lives and anyone that I ever held dear to me is distracted or has already said goodbye. And I guess that’s okay, but simultaneously, it’s like I give so much of myself to people… I’m the first one to wipe away their tears and the first one to help fight their battles but when it’s my turn it’s like, wait a day or two… or a simple no… no way. And that makes me feel an unexplainable kind of discomfort, because I hate asking for help and I hate relying on people and it takes me a lot to get to the point of even asking in the first place.

I stopped writing because I felt so empty. Even though so much has happened in the last few months… for some reason, it resonated with me that there was nothing to write about. I’ve been happy and I’ve been sad but up until certain circumstances, I never thought someone could make me feel so hurt and in pain ever again. I could go on and on about all the things that have lead up to me writing this right now but there is one thing that definitely stands out above them all.

I know what you’re going to think as soon as I say it. I know how stupid and naïve I was, but I thought I could trust him because we built up this relationship of trust. There was nothing romantic anymore, but there was this crazy bond. I thought despite our history, we kept making our way back to one another. I thought even after everything he put me through in the past when we were younger, he’d always have my best interests at heart. I mean, we basically grew up together. He was many things, he had very devious traits and made questionable choices, but he always looked out for me and made sure I was safe. He’d never put me in a position where I would be compromised. He would never compromise me.

Especially recently,  he kind of became my safe place these last few months. If I was having trouble or was feeling sad he became the first person I called, and I loved it. I loved it so much. It was comfortable and easy and he was just there to listen and helped to ease my worries. I figured that maybe this is what we were meant to be: friends. Incredible friends. He’d call me at 1 AM and we’d talk until the light returned into the sky. We spoke for hours without an end and I thought they were meaningful conversations. He answered any reservations I had about our newfound friendship and he told me that he doesn’t want to hurt me. And I foolishly believed him.

I’ve known him for eight years. Eight years of my life and I thought I knew him and what he was capable of. He asked me for money a few months ago, £200; I didn’t even flinch. It wasn’t even a question. I transferred that money and never thought twice about it. I mean, of course, I’d get it back. He told me he’d give it back as soon as possible. He had never ever asked me for a dime in the eight years we knew each other, so I figured it must’ve been hard for him to ask me. It was such an easy decision and I actually felt a sense of happiness because I was helping him and I could be there for him in his time of need. A few weeks later, he asked for more money… and I said no, that I didn’t have it. I have a rule; never lend money to someone if they haven’t already paid you back the previous amount. And then… another week later he asked me for £50… I gave it. I don’t know why I broke my rule. It was clear to me that this was becoming a pattern, I saw the red flags, but I gave in anyway. I just felt bad for him… I thought he must be in a difficult spot if he’s asking ME for fifty quid. So I gave it…

Over the next few months that followed, it seemed as though we blossomed together. Maybe I’m completely delusional, but he has this knack for making you feel significant. I guess I was just a fool.

A further month or so passed, I heard this rumour that he had been doing certain things that questioned my morality and I didn’t want to be someone available for him to use when he felt like it. The rumour didn’t make complete sense; it was very weird, so when he stated that it’s all lies, it was easy for me to believe. But I told him that this felt like some sort of a sign, because we have no mutual friends and don’t live in the same city, and for this news to fall into my lap just felt significant somehow, which meant that I couldn’t ignore it completely. So I told him to return the money to me, and that was the first time I asked him seriously. He said, "Okay, this Thursday 100%." You probably already can tell where this story is heading but I didn’t… that day came and went and no sign of my money. I asked again… and again… and again… still, nothing. I started to call him and he stopped answering. I called him almost 50 times in a day. And for some odd reason, I still thought there must be a reason behind this. I continued to have hope in me that he would miraculously reappear in my life again.

I decided to call on unknown… and he picked up, heard my voice and hung up. My heart sank. ‘No, please no,’ I thought. I called back several times and he turned down every single one... then it kept going to voicemail. Tears began to plummet from my eyes in an uncontrollable way. My whole body felt numb. I sent him a direct message on Instagram, asking what his problem was and he replied, “Sorry”… I didn’t know what that meant. This can’t be true… he wouldn’t do this to me… would he?

It wasn’t even the fact that he stole £250 from me that I can’t actually afford. It isn’t the money. It’s the concept of everything. He not only stole from me but disappeared. Refused to pick up my phone calls and has literally dropped off the face of the earth. He could have done this in so many different ways. I wasn’t forceful at all… He could have simply just stated, “I can’t pay you back right now, but once I can, I will.” What hurts the most is knowing that I’m so insignificant to him. That our hours of conversation was full of empty nothings. I was just a time pass and the last eight years… It was easy to throw away. He had that choice and he chose to throw me into the deep end, knowing I can't swim.

Nobody has ever broken me like he did, but once I healed from our past, I thought that we were indestructible. I thought we had found this common ground of an endless love but I was wrong. 

He knows I’m powerless and I can’t do anything. 

He knows I loved him and he used that. 

I was just a spare part that was once useful and now that he’s rinsed me dry, I’m useless.

He told me that he should have treated me better, that I shouldn’t have ever been in the position to feel disloyalty from the person that I’ve been loyal too. He said those things and then those actions followed. He’s definitely grown up, just into a criminal; into someone I don’t recognise. I’m sure some part of his dark soul loved me, just not enough to treat me like he would his own blood... like I did. 

So that’s my story. I loved him and he destroyed, me but I still hope one day he finds happiness. I also hope God saves every woman from him, but only He knows how many girls like me fell for the same man's tricks. I doubt I was the only one.

If this disgusting excuse for a man reads this, then my message to you is that I loved you more than I love myself. I kept falling over and over again, as if my mind, body, and soul would never be done with loving you but I will never make that mistake again. Loving you is my biggest regret. My biggest mistake. And finally, I hope the reason you cannot sleep at night is because the ghost of your deadly deeds haunt you day in, day out.

My advice to anyone reading this is to remember that you never really know a person. Save yourself. Be cautious. Feel love, just not blindly, because the best people are capable of bad things. 

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