The burden is on you now...

So how does one start a rant about an old flame. You could say he was my first love, but our relationship was anything but filled with love, you will soon get to realise I never truly loved him and from how he treated me you will soon clearly see why he never did.

I guess you need a back story to fully understand why I feel the way I do about this guy, I have come across a few guys that weren't pleasant in my time and he's up there with them.

I was young and naive he was the first serious thing I had. It started all innocent and cute as one does at 17 years old filled with hormones and dreams of the perfect boyfriend. We actually went to the same school when we were kids yada yada yada, *yawn*. This is all really irrelevant in all honesty, the first year was the honeymoon period I guess. So lets fast forward past that and the short period when I moved to uni we broke up got back together blah blah blah.

So things were good for a while I can't exactly pin point when things started to turn to shit but I guess it started around the halfway point in 2nd year going towards 3rd year. Shit got rocky I moved back home we saw each other less and less with his job. We argued a lot, I was extremely paranoid because he went out with the guys a lot without me, his excuse "you live so far away we can't do this stuff in the week". Now I look back now and I realised why I was so paranoid, he always spoke about other girls when he had been out, he had friends who clearly had no respect for me or a censor on their mouths about women, they were bad influences always encouraging talking about shit to do with girls etc. I never felt appreciated, in fact this shit got a whole lot worse when I started to lose weight...

I started getting fit and the weight just melted off at the beginning, it was great my boyfriend
supported me we worked out together, running on weekends sit ups together etc. Shit got extreme everyone told me how great I looked, he never once made me feel good about myself he always just told me I had to lose more weight. He looked at lad mags of women told me he wanted me to look like her or that porn star blah blah. Basically it was not good enough, it got extreme he even controlled what I ate, whatever his mum cooked me he would take shit off my plate and load it onto his. He was shallow, manipulative and selfish, in fact this is almost parallel to the 50 shades of grey but this shit happened before it even became a concept for a novel, as you will find out next..

Then onto the bedroom what started out as two innocent people turned into violence and hate sex to nicely put it. I could tell he hated me, the way he treated me in the bedroom was probably the worst part for me, he bought shit loads of s&m stuff, most of it I hated, yet he would always talk me into it in the end, even when I said no. He called me derogatory names, treated
me like I was an actual dog, basically I was there to follow orders and I felt cheap, unloved and most of the time I just zoned it out because frankly I hated every second, he enjoyed making me hurt, nipple clamps, butt plugs, riding crops, i didn't enjoy any of it but again he just talked himself into getting what he wanted. Even if i said no it wouldn't have mattered because he was the dominator and I was the submissive and everything he said had to go.

Maybe I was an idiot to have stayed 6 years with him after describing that shit to you but I guess I was so low and so attached because I was naive to think he actually cared for me, he used to get into fights a lot when a guy would look at me or talk to me. But looking back now I think that was just his instincts protecting what belonged to him, he didn't give a rats ass about me on an emotional level. I knew this because at some point in the relationship I would tell him I loved him and he stopped responding. We actually broke up and got back together every week and he made no secret he stopped loving me, but yet we still kept getting back together.
Now for those who have never been in this position you can not possibly understand what it's like to be conflicted like this, I should have felt hatred towards him but as soon we broke up I felt lost and lonely and vulnerable.

The fights started out as me doing the typical sulky girlfriend and not talking etc. then it turned into actual shouting matches and him throwing glass at the wall next to me, banging on the door, him pulling me out the bed to leave. He never once hit me, I even challenged him to a few times but he never would, but I was trembling like a leaf, as most my life I've not had a man in the house, so a man yelling terrifies me it doesn't matter who that is.

Friends I confided in (I never told anyone about the way he treated me in the bedroom or the violent outbursts he had, this is the first time I am actually talking about it all) told me I should end it permanently but I just couldn't, I'd always run back, never him and he would pretend it's a bad idea but I know he did it really because he liked to see me upset and beg for us to get back together, so he would always eventually agree to it. I realise now why, I had conflicts at home, I constantly relied on him as an escape from my own home, hence why I clung onto him.

Things went from shitty to really shitty it was July 2012, I distinctly remember this because it was my 21st birthday and we had decided to go on our first holiday to Amsterdam to celebrate. He was getting stressed out a week beforehand saying "i don't even wanna go now" having random outbursts, i put it down to his impatience, he got annoyed easily at stupid things. Things were great in Amsterdam, in fact I think it was too perfect, and you know what they say, usually when a guy is more affectionate than usual, its usually suspicious, however this wasn't alarm bells for me, I just put this down to weed and being on holiday.

We come back from Amsterdam a couple days later we are speaking on fb, I don't exactly remember now how it happened it's hazy and I guess my subconscious wants to permanently block this out of my memory, but somehow he told me on fb messenger he had cheated on me.

We all know the first step to acceptance is denial, I didn't believe him, I thought it was just a way to get back at me for being a bad girlfriend, I kept asking questions he told me everything. I found out he did this shit a week before we left for Amsterdam to add insult to injury he did this when he went out with the guys in my part of London in my local bar I had introduced to him. I was so stunned, I felt nothing, I couldn't cry, I couldn't be angry, I literally was numb, I guess that was my coping mechanism. It took a few days but then it got bad I had crying fits, insomnia and I was going insane coming to terms he did what he swore to me he never would do.

I knew then that was it, I ended it we were done. I was so proud of myself, I went to Bristol to spend time with my girl got stoned for a week. But it didn't last long I spoke to a few people and they actually told me you guys should try again and make it work, 5 years is a long time to throw away, people make mistakes, if its one time then it can be forgiven.

I thought about it, at the same time he begged and begged and swore to me he wouldn't do it again. I was still adamant with my decision and I still felt nothing towards him, but I said ok lets try one more time. Shit went amazing for a while, I simmered down on the paranoia, psycho girlfriend thing and I thought thats it, we planned to move out together etc. That very same summer July 2013 he did it again, however I didn't hear about it straight away he left it for months. Instead of being sorry, he blamed me for everything told me he did what he did to even the score with the people I had been with at uni, despite our separation, he called me a slut (Ironic don't ya think?) He also blamed me for not going to his grandmothers funeral, like that had some profound effect on our relationship, despite me being there for him when he was mourning.
You can guess what happened next I left him the week it was our 6 year anniversary. I never looked back, never second guessed my decision, I should have stuck with my guns and left the first time he fucked about.

After broke up, time went by we became civil, hung out a bit. Just before I went to Thailand  in 2014 we had this deep convo, he was depressed, he missed me, he was jealous I was going to Thailand and he still loved me. (Beauty of manipulation tell the girl what you think she wants to hear). But you see that ship has long sailed, I have no feelings. But every so often he disappears then comes back in contact and frankly I have got to the point now in life where I have clarity and realised, what happened to me wasn't out of love, it was just a massive ball of fucked up.

At the end of the day he didn't try hard enough, he never heard my cries when I needed someone when I had tough shit going on, he told me I was exaggerating life couldn't of been that bad at home. he blamed me for everything.

Now this same guy, 3 years later, waltz' back in again, trying to meet up when I was in England, I blocked him, he starts snap chatting me, I ignored, I post snaps he watches them all *blocks* stalks me on instagram *blocks*. Now I don't know about you but if you think somehow he still loves me, then it must be some weird, twisted, fucked up kind of love. How I see it I was merely arm candy and something to fuck his frustrations out on, I had no worth or value except to be used for his pleasure. So no he wasn't my first love and in hindsight I wish my naivety didn't cloud my judgment. It taught me many valuable lessons about life but I regret wasting a whole 6 years finding them out.