Relationships

I cheated on my bf two months into our relationship. I was still in contact with my ex and decided to cut ties with him due to my new relationship.

My ex came to my city and chased me. The last night, i went to his airbnb to talk and end this. However, I froze seeing him beg and cry. I had never seen someone so upset for me and I didn’t even know what to do. I didn’t even know what to say because saying i don’t have feelings for you and that there is someone else, didn’t do much. It was the first breakup (mutual) I ever had in my life and i wasn’t expecting this level of emotions. And when he initiated sex, i numbed. I was a virgin and held onto that. But I cracked under pressure. I went home, threw up and cried for weeks.

I reached out for professional help, because i was struggling to hold the weight of what I had done. It didn’t last long due to other reasons. And I avoided telling the truth out of hurting my bf. But that was worse than actually cheating. It made me into a horrible partner. I always argued with him whenever he called me names or accused me, i argued with him when he felt like he couldnt trust me. I always got mad, I ignored him, I made him feel unwanted, I made him feel insecure. I never realised how much of a manipulator i became and when i look back on it, my chest crumbles at what he had to endure. He always fought so hard to keep me close and i pushed him away.

Fast forward a year later, and i moved to my bfs country. And months later, he went through my phone and found out about my ex. It was then i had told him the truth of that night. It was an emotional rollercoaster. He went through everything on my phone. He accused me of being with multiple men, which, is not true. But in the end, he decided he wanted to stay and make it work.

It has been about a month and things are still raw and fresh. He calls me names everyday, tells me im worth nothing, he has closed off emotionally. He doesn’t really seek me unless its to be intimate, which feels like it has increased. He has continuously dangled the idea of bringing women home, women better than me. And says he cannot wait until i feel what he does. He needs to continuously check my phone, sometimes when im sleeping.

Me on the other hand, i’ve become quieter. Ive started therapy. Trying to break down what led me to where I am now. And how to never let something like this repeat. I have a lot of guilt for hurting him. He went from my sweet boy, to one filled with rage and hatred. I just stay quiet and take it, but sometimes the name calling gets a bit much and i fight back and ask him to stop. Most times I just ask if he needs to talk, he will usually push me away, and I will remind him im there if or when he needs me. My mental health is poor, but so is his. I’m trying to be better, with patience, sometimes I fail and have to withdraw if the verbal abuse gets a bit much. I miss my love. I miss how gentle he was. Its one of the things i loved about him. He was so big and rugged but with me he was so gentle and soft. I miss holding him. I miss his smile. I miss the way he laughs. I miss the spark in his eyes and I’m losing hope that he will get it back with me. I know a month is really nothing, but I’ve had to watch him become so cruel, with no fault of his own.

I’m trying my best to keep the both of us up, during this. We don’t talk much throughout the day. Some days we spend time together when hes home. We’ll go out for a meal or something, but right now, feels like anything I do or say bothers him. I’m starting to feel a bit insecure, like i need to completely strip myself away. Maybe I do. I’m still figuring that out. I did ask if hes willing to go to couples therapy and he said yes initially, but then declined when the time came. I’m not so sure we can go back to what we had as its completely overshadowed by my choices. If we can make it work, I hope that we can build something new. Learn how to date each other again. Rebuild that trust and I know it will take time.

I take full accountability for my wrong doings. I’m committed to rewiring the bad traits in me, and understanding where they come from. I never realised how much trauma from my childhood, still played a role in my 20z, especially with intimacy. But this is also my first time in rather invasive therapy and shes good. She gets me to expose the dirty stuff and break them down. As for my boy, I truly love him with my heart. I failed to choose him when it mattered the most and by doing so, I didn’t protect and hold his heart the way I should have. I don’t know if I’ll get him back, not that I deserve it. But I hope I can get to love him properly again, if he lets me. Maybe thats a selfish want, and truthfully so, he deserves better than me. #

I am not writing this to feel bad about myself. I am writing this to let out the pain that comes from hurting your loved ones. It destroys you. It should. If I could go back in time, I’d change it all. I’d love him better. I’d choose him. And we could have been so much further than we are now. I could have given him a happier home. A wife. A family. Everything he wanted. Instead I took it away. I will forever be sorry for it all.

I texted asking if she was home and she said she was going to kohls and would call me on her way there. So she called and asked what was wrong. I said nothing was wrong, I just wanted to talk. So of course she starts yelling at me for wasting her time. My response was "if this is how you act when I call you I just won't call you anymore." And then I hung up. I just feel so broken. Here I am trying to nurture my relationship with my mom and she thinks I'm a waste of time.

The birds froze solid on their perches, tiny sculptures rimed with ice. That was the first sign that Stormwraith was coming. It became undeniable as the wind came screaming out of the north and the birds shattered as the trees hit the ground. The village was next, sturdy buildings of stone and wood, folded up like cardboard and riding the wind to places far from home. The lucky ones died as their roofs caved in. The unlucky fled into the cold. The Dreams and Memories couldn’t pile on enough clothes to stave off the heat bleeding away from their bodies. Their shivering cracked the thin ice coating their limbs, filling the air with the soft sound of fragile things breaking.

The snow came. The Dreams and Memories looked into the sky, only to flinch, blinking away pink tears. The snowflakes were sharp, leaving thin rills of blood wherever they touched skin or eyes. A Dream limped by, clutching his half severed ear, while a Memory’s breath cut his lips as he screamed; his scalp slid off of his skull. A javelin of ice cut the wretch’s screams short as it pierced his throat, toppling him to the ground. Cracks spread through his frozen flesh.

By the time the lightning came, the village was littered with corpses impaled on spears of ice. A lightning bolt struck the leeward side of one of the few standing trees. The half of the tree that faced the village exploded, raining burning fragments over the bodies, setting them ablaze. The other half dropped, frozen, as dead as the Dreams and Memories it could not shelter. Now the lightning rained down in sheets, sending steam hissing into the air as it collided with the deathly cold, displacing it with a firestorm and funeral pyre. The Dreams and Memories were no more, erased from land now barren.

Freezing drizzle fell from the leaden sky, turning the crematory ash into mud. Stormwraith’s eyes hung briefly like moons, surveying what he had done. I had to flinch away. His gaze was heavy with loss. Then the dragon, the storm, was gone.

Stormwraith is my depression. Stormwraith protects me. What horrible sights was I spared when I had to flinch, blinking away pink tears? When I had “healed” enough to try being in a relationship, I was abused by a narcissistic con woman. I would have been better off broken. I sleep dreaming in the snow, the cracks in my frozen skin a reminder of the folly that comes from doing, from being, from the impossibility of living. Stormwraith will never abandon me, unlike everyone else. Frozen in death, Stormwrath keeps me safe, until the pyre cleanses my stain from this earth.

#Depression #Trauma #PTSD #Suicide #MentalHealth #Disability

The birds froze solid on their perches, tiny sculptures rimed with ice. That was the first sign that Stormwraith was coming. It became undeniable as the wind came screaming out of the north and the birds shattered as the trees hit the ground. The village was next, sturdy buildings of stone and wood, folded up like cardboard and riding the wind to places far from home. The lucky ones died as their roofs caved in. The unlucky fled into the cold. The Dreams and Memories couldn’t pile on enough clothes to stave off the heat bleeding away from their bodies. Their shivering cracked the thin ice coating their limbs, filling the air with the soft sound of fragile things breaking.

The snow came. The Dreams and Memories looked into the sky, only to flinch, blinking away pink tears. The snowflakes were sharp, leaving thin rills of blood wherever they touched skin or eyes. A Dream limped by, clutching his half severed ear, while a Memory’s breath cut his lips as he screamed; his scalp slid off of his skull. A javelin of ice cut the wretch’s screams short as it pierced his throat, toppling him to the ground. Cracks spread through his frozen flesh.

By the time the lightning came, the village was littered with corpses impaled on spears of ice. A lightning bolt struck the leeward side of one of the few standing trees. The half of the tree that faced the village exploded, raining burning fragments over the bodies, setting them ablaze. The other half dropped, frozen, as dead as the Dreams and Memories it could not shelter. Now the lightning rained down in sheets, sending steam hissing into the air as it collided with the deathly cold, displacing it with a firestorm and funeral pyre. The Dreams and Memories were no more, erased from land now barren.

Freezing drizzle fell from the leaden sky, turning the crematory ash into mud. Stormwraith’s eyes hung briefly like moons, surveying what he had done. I had to flinch away. His gaze was heavy with loss. Then the dragon, the storm, was gone.

Stormwraith is my depression. Stormwraith protects me. What horrible sights was I spared when I had to flinch, blinking away pink tears? When I had “healed” enough to try being in a relationship, I was abused by a narcissistic con woman. I would have been better off broken. I sleep dreaming in the snow, the cracks in my frozen skin a reminder of the folly that comes from doing, from being, from the impossibility of living. Stormwraith will never abandon me, unlike everyone else. Frozen in death, Stormwrath keeps me safe, until the pyre cleanses my stain from this earth.

#Depression #Trauma #PTSD #Suicide #MentalHealth #Disability

I’m going through a very painful divorce with my wife. What hurts the most is how it affected my relationship with my kids. Communicating with them feels hard and unnatural now — there’s tension, fear of saying the wrong thing, long awkward pauses. I worry about losing our connection, about becoming a stranger in their lives. Still, I’m trying to stay present, to listen more than I speak, and to show them that I’m here no matter what. I truly hope time, patience, and honesty will help us heal.

#Divorce

It wasn’t the violence that hurt the most.
It wasn’t the endless cycle of abuse
that finally pushed me away.
It wasn’t your fists.

What broke me
was believing, for the first time,
that I could fall apart safely—
and realizing you didn’t care enough
to help put me back together.

I was handed off instead.

To cops.
To jails.
To therapists.
To military schools.

Institutions that tried to parent
what you weren’t willing to.
What you didn’t care to.
What you didn’t know how to love.

Because you couldn’t love me.

You never learned to regulate
what I had to.

You say you won’t tolerate a relationship
that isn’t rooted in respect.

Was it respect
when you beat me?
My mother?
My siblings?

Was it respect
when you offered to pay for my education
and later threw it back at me as worthless
because it made me empathetic—
because it made me soft
in ways you never survived being?

When I look back on a life half-lived,
I can’t find a single moment
where you actually respected me.

Only obedience.
Only dependence.
Only the version of me
that needed you to survive.

And when I didn’t—
when I finally stood upright,
found my own voice,
claimed my own opinions—
you hated it.

But that is not a lesson
either of us needs to keep learning.

I need to learn to love myself
in the places you never could.
To respect what you couldn’t see.
To heal what you broke first.
To unlearn the patterns
you're still trying
to beat into me.

Maybe they were beaten into you.

Maybe you have changed.
Maybe I just can’t see it
while staring so hard at the past,
trying to rework the present.

But today,
saying *I love you*
means not saying anything at all.

Respect means restraint.
Accountability is foreign.

So silence—
not anger,
not punishment—

silence will become comfort.

#MightyPoets #MightyTogether #MentalHealth #Addiction #PTSD #Grief #Abuse