Years of silence
We’ve been together for almost half of my life. The smiles, laughs, dreams, tears, and every beautiful moment we shared will forever stay in my heart.
This is me finally letting out everything I’ve buried and dealt with alone for years. I never told my family or friends because I never wanted them to see you as anything less than how I saw you, a beautiful, smart, and caring queen. But I think I’ve been blind for a long time.
Nobody knows how abusive things were, both physically and mentally. I hid bruises behind smiles to protect you from the people who genuinely cared about me. Several years ago cancer took my mom away and shortly after you walked out on me when I needed you most. You traveled across the country to meet a random man states away, then begged me to take you back. Foolishly, I did.
For years, trust ate away at me, but I still protected your image. My family and friends love you, they still do. Life got good for a while, and then everything came crashing down again.
The guilt seemed to eat at you until you convinced yourself you weren’t good enough for me. Then came the affairs, four other men that I know about, spread across the world. Intimate messages, pictures, and conversations about how you hated me because I was “too good” for you. How does me being a good man somehow make me the bad guy?
Then you left. You moved several states away to “heal” and work on the relationship, only to suddenly decide you wanted “no contact.” We haven’t spoken in three months, and I’m only now starting to open my eyes and realize how pathetic I’ve been trying to hold onto us for so long.
Even our cat has changed. The same cat that used to be fierce and independent now barely eats, lays around all day, and stays glued to my side. We’re both here alone, trying to pick up the pieces.
I’m only writing this because I need to let it out somehow. I’m just not ready to tell anyone yet.