u/turko127

They were really happy with me. At least for a period of time, I felt happy that they were happy. I’d get them things and make them feel loved and appreciated, but most of all, seen and understood. I tried. I probably ended up stressing myself from it. And I still wanted to try anyway.
Then they got upset with me during a processing that I had not been as good a partner as they kept saying I was. That stressed me out. I got increasingly apologetic about my behavior in order to try and make them happy again but it just made them more upset, not even willing to acknowledge that I was fucking trying. That I still cared for them deeply and wanted to make things right. I even suffered from a panic attack because I still wanted them to be happy even while I very likely couldn’t be happy with myself around them anymore.

Welp. They broke up with me last week. Don’t want to hear from me again. I don’t know for how long I genuinely tried to push myself to say “my kitten” and feel something from it but now that’s over. I hate how it all ended. But I also feel new life again? I had the best unmedicated night sleep for a long time. This feeling that I finally can rest easy from pushing myself to be with them. Gone. This feeling that I was perpetually sinking with them. Gone.

I still have to work on my own things. Any idea that I’m absolved of that obligation to myself is fucking ridiculous. But I’m also free of what I’m realizing now was probably partially their BPD-aided brick wall that I kept smashing my head into to make the pain go away (I’m autistic, so that analogy is sadly apt). I really hope that we can have an honest conversation about this in the future, free of any self-obligation to hide and sugarcoat my feelings so as to not hurt them. But also free of this feeling that I was trying to harm them. Fuck, I’m even sure them finding all this out would constitute me “harming them.”

I don’t want to date them again. I have neither the reason, the passion, nor health to try and push myself through that again (obviously they don’t want to hear from me again, but I’m saying I have no reason to try on my end, either). I think while this brick wall exists, while I’m still being mischaracterized as deliberately hurtful despite a fuckton of evidence to the contrary, despite me ramming my head into it to try and make the pain go away, I don’t think I even want to be friends with them.

This is about my feelings in this. And frankly, I was playing *Free Bird* in my head repeatedly even before we broke up. It hurts to say, but boy does it feel good.