And so it ends

I received an email tonight from the kid who rents the apartment I had prior the one I shared with my ex. He says someone came to the door, drunk, looking for me. I then receive a call from a friend who lived upstairs when I lived there (and who still lives there) saying that my ex had shown up at the door, drunk, asking for me. He and I lived together after I lived in this apartment so he knows very well I do not live there anymore. This is an indication of how drunk he is. I realize that this means he's incoherent and probably not in the best shape to be stumbling through DC by himself. So I try calling him. He answers and tries to tell me he doesn't even live in DC anymore and it wasn't him. This is clearly a lie. This goes back and forth and back and forth and I keep trying to get him to tell me where he is and if he's home. I'm incredibly worried about him. I wonder where he's been that he's in this condition and what will happen to him if I hang up or ignore the situation. I decide I can't deal with this, so I put on my clothes and head out the door, get in my car and drive to the neighborhood I used to live in. I call him and he says where he is. He is back at the same apartment again. I call my friend who lives there and ask him to go outside and make him stay until I get there. When I get there, he is clearly drunk. He is being all sweet and telling me how cute I look and what not. My friend goes inside. I walk with the ex down the street towards my car and tell him I'll give him a ride home. He declines. I insist. Then he goes on about how awful his life has been and it's basically incoherent. He tells me he misses me. I cry and cry because I miss him too and am so sad that he is the way he is tonight. Then he starts to get ugly. And mean. He starts telling me he hates me. I tell him that is fine, I don't care if he hates me, I just want him to get home safely. I say let's not fight, just get in the car and let me take him home. I don't want to fight about this anymore. He hates me. Fine. I have learned to be okay with him hating me. But I can't leave him there to wander home alone and get hurt. I still love him too much for that.

He then tells me that he cheated on me before we broke up. I don't really believe him because he's drunk and is trying to hurt me. Then he tells me it was with someone I know. I tell him again I don't believe him. But now I'm starting to freak out. He tells me who it is after I start prodding him about him having balls and telling me the truth. He then starts laughing and tells me who it is and that it went on well before we broke up, while we were living together. I start to cry. He shows me emails on his blackberry about it. I take his blackberry and refuse to give it back. I tell him two things are going to happen. He is going to tell me everything, the entire truth or he will get in the car and let me take him home. I won't give him the blackberry until one of those things happen. He goes on and on telling me how he hates me and how he wishes he had never met me and how I sicken him. He then starts to get violent. He pushes me and starts chasing me down the sidewalk. He hits me in the back of the head...I"m pushing him off of me and telling him I'm going to call the cops. He hits me again. He's jerking me by the collar on my sweater and trying to throw me up against my own car. He breaks my glasses. He throws my phone on the ground when I pick it up to try to call the cops. I can't see, I don't know where my glasses are, or my phone. He worries that the call to the cops went through and he leaves. I get in my car and am hysterically crying. I get out of my car and go looking for him to give him back his blackberry. I know when this night is over, I will never talk to him again and I don't want it. I only wanted it because I wanted the truth. The truth doesn't matter at this point. I find him and give it back to him. He starts pushing me again. I turn to leave and he's grabbing me and cursing at me. I am pushing him back and hitting him to try to get him to let go of my collar because he's choking me. I fall on the ground. I get up and walk off to my car. He goes in the other direction.

Then, for some unknown reason, I can't leave. I need to know. I have to know that he'll be okay to get home. I have to know that he is telling me the truth. I want to know how he did this, under my nose, with someone I know and no one else knew, no one else told me, how long was it happening? Why? WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY!?!?! I start to follow him. I keep enough distance so he doesnt' know I'm there. I want to know he is going home and will get there safely. Why? I have no clue. I just can't leave him the way he is. It's stupid. I know I'm stupid. But I loved him...and I would never recover if something happened to him.

Finallly we get near where he works and he turns around and starts yelling at me again...telling me he hates me. I tell him I think he's lying and although he may have slept with that guy, I think he was doing it AFTER we broke up and is only saying he was doing it before to hurt me. He wants to hurt me and will lie to do it. He calls a coworker. I'm sure she is fucking confused and he hands me the phone. She has no clue what is going on. I apologize that he called her. She asks why he called her. I say because he wanted you to confirm that he was cheating on me before we broke up. She says she started working with him in september and he was already sleeping around on me then. And had been. I tell her that she needs to call him in an hour to be sure he got home okay, that I could not let this be my responsibility anymore. I fall apart, hand him the blackberry, turn and walk away crying. I walk back to my car and call my best friend who does not live in DC. She is my rock. She will get me back to my car and get me home. As I walk, I start crying harder and feel so ashamed. Ashamed that I ever cared. Ashamed that I came out tonight out of concern for him. Ashamed that I had to ever find out that everything I believed about our relationship was bullshit.

As ashamed as I am, I am aware more than anything. So many questions I have had regarding our breakup are answered. Why he was so cold when he left me. Why he wouldn't talk about it, wouldn't make it work. He knew to make it work, he'd have to tell me he cheated. Honestly I would have forgiven him because we were not getting along and well I loved him. But now, now is different. I spent five months hating myself and blaming myself. I spent five months crushed, devastated emotionally. I spent five months feeling the worst I've ever felt. And it was all because I was WRONG about everything. I really believed he never cheated. I REALLY believed he truly loved me and just was not happy. I'm sitting here, crying, shaking, hurting and I can't figure my own feelings out. I hate him for what he did. I hate him for telling me tonight. I hate him for coming to my old apartment to try to find me. I hate him for the fact that he is so obviously upset and guilty and mad that he did what he did and things ended because of how fucked up it all became and he knows that he misses me and that it's done. I hate him for it. But I still love him. I still miss him. I miss the him I thought he was. I miss the 2 years of happiness I thought I had. I'm embarrassed. I'm embarrassed that he cheated...that he felt he had to. That who he cheated with is someone I know. Who is NOT cute by the way. That hurts me. I just feel sick. I want to throw up. I hate this. I don't know what to tell my friends who will surely ask what happened tonight. I had worked so hard to get over this the last five months and tonight it's like starting from scratch. Before it got ugly tonight, I was looking at him and my heart was just breaking in a million pieces because I missed him so much. He was so cute. And I hate myself for feeling that way.

But it's over. I can never talk to him, see him or have him as any part of my life again. Ever. And that hurts. It devastates me. I love him. I always will. And to know that now it's done...it's over and I will never ever be able to forgive or forget. And that now I have to live my life feeling differently about him than I did before tonight, it hurts. I don't even care about the violence. People fight. I'm not an battered wife. I am fine and he did not hurt me (thought I do have a bit of a knot on my head and a scraped elbow...oh and broken armani glasses - that bitch). I don't care about that. What is battered and what hurts the most is on the inside. I feel sick. I just feel so miserable. I don't know that I will ever feel happy again. I'd worked so hard to get back to who I was before I met him. But now I know that person will never be back.

And so it ends. I only chose to blog about this because I needed to get it out right now while I'm feeling the way I feel. I hope tomorrow brings something a little better than today left me with.