diabola in musica

Four days ago, we were having dinner, discussing music. Three days ago, we were dancing at a wedding. Last night, we ended the relationship.

Things change so quickly.

The relationship had already dismantled years ago, when he stopped paying attention to me, and in response, I stopped communicating with him. He places the blame largely on the open relationship, but I know that our bond was already weak then. We didn’t talk about our problems, no matter how often I tried to start the conversation. We rarely had sex. Though we were intimate, I felt like an ornament in his life, someone he liked to keep around for companionship and security. The romantic relationship was a sham, even when I wanted to believe in it. We were so happy. But without him working with me, I was also so alone.

After many years lacking emotional support, the abandonment was poignant. During these past four months, I couldn’t trust him. Every statement was suspicious. Every act had a secret motive. After so many broken promises, I was ready to shrug each new one as a lie. No matter how much he said I was the only one, I was sure that a few drinks will encourage flirting and sex with another woman. Where was the courtship, the respect, the desire to connect and understand? We’ve had so many arguments about our different viewpoints, about which ones were healthy and justifiable. Often I was on the defensive, attacked for what was perceived as unreasonable. When you feel rejected enough, you soon begin to reject the rejector. When he later offered the olive branch, I viewed it with suspicion. I was waiting for that hidden stiletto, the one he would plunge without a care.

This isn’t what I wanted. I wanted full understanding, easy communication. I wanted the comfort of someone who cares. I wanted the freedom to be myself. I wanted passionate sex, knowledge that someone desires me. I wanted the space, the freedom to express my feelings—the anger, the sadness, the fear.

I wanted to find these things in him.

No one should be alone in a relationship. We seek that other so we won’t be alone. But after so many failures, so much broken trust, now I have to face that stark reality—that love fails, love disappoints, that no matter how much I reach out, I will always finish desolate, isolated, alone.