Getting Over Him

I knew I couldn't be with him; but a year down the line, I still couldn't move on.

Hi there

So a lil while ago I hooked this thing we call Tumblr back onto my phone and noticed I was getting followers and reblogs, despite not writing anything for a long long time. So I just checked it out and I have a good few followers following nuttin’ and I just didn’t think that was fair.

I tried a few times to tell you what happened in the end of that story, but it was so messy that I couldn’t really begin to explain and I wasn’t sure where I got to either.

So just to let you know, end it did. Two years ago now, almost exactly. The drugs didn’t stop, the neglect didn’t stop and the psychological/emotional torment didn’t stop. He disappeared for days and days on end and there’s be rumours about girls and there’d be god awful fights.

I was scared to leave because of all the things he did the first time, so eventually I kept pushing the issue that he wants children and I didn’t. It worked, but it took a while.

The irony was that I ended up pregnant from the final time I slept with him and I had to go through the process alone, because he was coked up and couldn’t deal with the situation when I needed his help. I was accused of murdering his child and had a sleepless night full of abuse from him. In the morning I told him it was a false alarm.

Two months later I had moved further into London and didn’t return until the end of the year to see family.

For all those who have read this blog so far, a romantic and tormented love affair it was not. What I experienced with him I have since grown up from and have since learnt it was emotional, psychological and physical abuse. I was blinded because I was young, because he told me he loved me and because I’d never received a slap. But the truth is, suicide threats, violent threats, hands to the throats and all the many things in between, are abuse and not a tragic romance and are signs that it could get much worse.

And it did. About 6 months ago I bumped into his now ex who had been trying to get hold of me for advice, she wanted to know if he’d ever been violent or agressive. She has pictures on her phone where he’d thrown her down the stairs, broken her thumb and left her with bruises. I gave her my number but I haven’t heard since.

Through the grape vine I have been told he’s continuously cheating and is getting in more and more debt with drug dealers. I hope for his sake and the girls he meets that he changes, I don’t really feel that his life is heading in a good direction and if kids are his main priority, he needs to set better foundations than a broken relationship and a drug habit. But anyway, that’s no longer my concern.

Me? Well you can find me in Africa, visiting family and volunteering with my beautiful new partner of eight months. I’m on sabbatical and am running a project over here, whilst working on healing some old wounds.

But fear not! If it’s more of a story you’re after, there’s a hell of one behind this love.

lorensays:

“We live in a generation of, not being in love, and not being together… but we sure make it feel like we’re together because we’re scared to see each other with somebody else.”

What We Have

Sometimes I feel like the only thing we really have is our art. Our love for our work, our burning desire to create and be more. It can never let me down as long as I work hard at it. Love can fall apart at any time. The strongest of couples can die out. So what do we really have?

I just want to kiss you

This has to be the most amazing pudding I have ever seen.

This has to be the most amazing pudding I have ever seen.

(via yourstrulyjstne)

Thoughts

How bad is it that I now like to have the bed to myself?

Is that a sign of just needing space or a sign of needing a bit more than that?

When he is in my bed I love it. I love being close to him, being wrapped in his arms, feeling loved and feeling safe. But something is different. I feel like a major part of my emotional mechanics has changed, possibly permanently. I can’t see us how we were. My dream, my vision is shattered.

When I am alone, I am in complete control. I am happy with my life and what I’ve created and if I’m not, I change it. It’s not that easy in a relationship. You have to consider them and what they want and who they are. I want to mould him into my prince and mould us into my fairytale and I can’t. Everyone has their own happy ending, no it’s not Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs but it’s a realistic version of happiness within relationships- give, take, commitment, dedication, compatibility and I hope, an underlying unconditional strong love that eventually lasts through the toughest of times.

I have no doubt that we love each other, but I just don’t know if this is it. If this is my ‘happy ending’. If it is, I need more and I don’t know if he has it to give.

We are just so different.