11. He wasn’t who I thought he was and I wasn’t who he wanted me to be. He was depressed, obese and had huge self-worth issues and some trouble with alcohol abuse. The relationship ended up being more of a caretaker-patient thing with him making me feel guilty when I left home for work and spending spare time with someone else was unthinkable. Short term I figured he’d get better, but he refused therapy. He tried starting 4 studies but lost interest sooner with each of them. With this getting progressively worse for 9 years in the end he had no diploma, no income, was heavier than ever, drinking daily and relying on me for everything.
Leaving was difficult, but it was the best thing I could have done for him. He finally started taking responsibility, started therapy and now he’s financially independent, taking care of his body and doing all kinds of active things with friends. In the meantime I’m happily taken and feel a lot more free to pursue my goals and dreams with a partner who’s also aiming for the stars.
12. Both of us were alcoholics.
I met him at age 22, he was 26. Love at first sight. It was immediately understood without even speaking of it that we were just going to be together now, and that was that for 2.5 years.
I have still never met someone I have loved entirely as much as I loved him. And when I broke things off with him, I honestly think a piece of my soul died. Because I have truly never been the same since.
My mom and dad were both alcoholics and it fucked up my childhood. I had a drinking problem myself that I didn’t understand yet. My drinking increased when we began dating because it seemed so normal to indulge more with him. The more I drank, the more neurotic and needy I became. The more he drank, the more he just faded away from the world.
He always drank to the point of blacking out and I hated it. I would see his facial expression go kind of blank while we were out, and I’d know he was blacked out, like, nothing there, dead behind the eyes. And I’d wonder where the guy I loved was. I’d tell him we needed to go home and he’d brush it off and refuse. He had to close the bar down no matter what. He’d just always get so fucking hammered.
Seeing the man I loved really drunk would always trigger this really lonely and dark sadness inside me. I felt invisible like I did to my parents my whole childhood. And he drank like, everyday. He never slept at night so much as he actually just kind of passed out. I always felt like I was sleeping next to a ghost when he was passed out from drinking. I felt like I was dating him, the perfect person, and then also his twin, who had nothing to give and no life inside of him. It was just a shell of him. It broke my heart constantly.
After some time of cyclical arguments (usually while both of us were drunk) I started to realize he didn’t feel like he had an issue, and I wasn’t sure he would ever face it. I wanted to face my issues. I wanted a better life and better mental health. He was not in favor of making changes.
He had socialized with the same group of guys since he was 5, all of whom drank to blackouts regularly, and his dad was a big drinker. They were from a privileged, upper middle class kind of circle where binge drinking was just normal because they went to more expensive bars and only drank craft beers and whatnot. Idk how to explain it. But there was a disconnect there between us. There was no part of his life that didn’t revolve around alcohol and I knew if I didn’t get away from that lifestyle, I was going to end up miserable or maybe even dead.
I still fight for my sobriety every day. He just got married last month. I saw photos from the wedding, where he had a drink in his hand in every photo and the same blank, drunk expression I could never cope with. I wish him the best, and I still miss him everyday. I fucking hate alcohol for all of the shit in life that it absolutely destroys.
