Now everyone knows theres two sides to every story. This is mine. Factually everything is accurate. When you get to me describing other peoples intentions well all i can do is guess at that. Its an educated guess, based on many years of observation, but still a guess. I knew from early on my ex was a very troubled person. I knew i needed to get far away from her. She lied about having cancer. Said it was terminal. A couple months later she lied about being pregnant. Then the doctors said she couldnt carry full term and it was either her or the baby. We agonized over that, well at least i did. She wanted to pass and leave me with the baby since she was going anyway.
Those were both in the first year. When i found those out I left her and i had no intentions of coming back. But then it turned out she actually was prego, it was a surprise to her as well. Got a test and it was beyond a doubt mine. When her mom found out (her mom is incredibly abusive, its where she learned it all) she beat her ass and threw her out the door and told her never to come back. She had been with me ever since. My mom wouldnt let her move in, i had to get us a place.
Things were very rough in the first couple years before my career took off. One thing i have not really said much about is my own behavior. Im no shining angel. I did things to hurt her. Nowhere on the level up there but i did. When i moved her in after the prego i was not good to her at all. I had just found out about the cancer lies. I made shure she got to the hospital an hour away every single tues and thurs for almost a year for her treatments. I paid the gas to get there. I paid the deductible. I cried with her as we shaved her head. I held her after she miscarried. I cried so fucking hard at the loss of my fictional child. I dedicated my life to a lie and finding out the truth took away anything i had left.
I made her pay. I wasnt exactly abusive. I didnt hit her, yell at her, anything like that. I ignored the fuck out of her. For 3 months the only words i said to her were what i wanted her to do. Grab me a beer, fix dinner, go get this or that, etc. She tried to talk to me id ignore or walk away. I went wherever i wanted and did whatever i wanted. I came home when i wanted. I fucked who i wanted and if she wanted it too just ask. She did and it was angriest and meanest sex ive ever had. She kept asking tho. I made damn sure she knew we were not together and i was only putting up with her because she had my baby in her belly and nowhere to go.
It was ridiculously cruel. I cant believe that i did that to the woman i loved. I know that hurt her extremely bad and i wish like fuck i could take it back. She was a scared and pregnant 18 year old girl who just got kicked out her house, in a unfamiliar run down place (the trailer i got prob shoulda been condemmed), completely surrounded by my entire family, alone most of the time cause i was off with friends all the time, and apparently totally in love with me. I had passed her test. She had concrete proof that i would do anything in the world for her without batting an eye. Id move mountains with a spoon if she asked. And in getting her proof of that she made damn sure id never feel that way again. I dont think we ever truly trusted each other since.
We eventually setted down. For the most part the anger disappeared. There was no doubt wed be having a baby soon. I started concentrating hardcore on my career instead of partying all the time. I busted my ass networking. It took off in no time I started making really good money. We moved into a nice place. I put her in school for nursing. Things were good. We had a decent relationship for the majority of the time. This was probably the happiest time of our entire relationship.
Now i would imagine the number one question on anyones mind is why the fuck did i stay so long? Why did i give her so damn many chances? Why did i keep going back? Why was i there in the first place? I dont honestly know. It was a combination of things. I loved her until the day she betrayed my deepest secret. All im writing about is the horrible shit. I mentioned up there how i felt an instant intense spark when me and my recent ex met. This was the first time i felt that. We fit together like a glove the vast majority of the time. And, even though we tried our hardest to hurt each other every time we turned around, against anyone else we were a team and a strong one at that. It was us against the world and we were determined to win. In a lot of metrics we did. We shared absolutely everything and we were on all the same pages. Again i dont know where it went bad. Somewhere around year 3 i think. I just remembered i did chatch her cheating then. Her phone went off in the middle of the night one time and i looked at it. She had been seeing a guy and telling him about how i was abusive and beat her. She was working her lies on him and he got worked up in the middle of the night and begged her to leave me and come to him. I got to have a nice long chat with him. I dont like remembering that.