It hurts. Because I know deep down that FtB and I could have been happy, provided he had enough grit to stand up for me.
“The first rule of relationship is you defend your love no matter what, from no matter who. You stand up for her/him/them cause thats what you do if you truly love someone” – was the reaction that my friend HK had when I told him the whole story. “This is not on you. This is on him. You have done nothing wrong.”
I cried. But this affirmation and last night’s revelations, and perhaps the fact that I finally ate something – is making me feel better.
FtB and I were perfectly happy. Then I realised that this 45-year-old friend had infiltrated FtB’s family like a parasite that grows around something strong and aloof – and feeds off its resources.
I get along perfectly with his family. His brother, his father, and I invite them for dinner. His brother’s gf was there too. She works for the Bern police psychology department. I kind of trusted her here already. I have heard stories about her brother having troubles with her, but those aren’t my stories to tell. But that evening after dinner, she left the flowers that were bought for her upstairs. So, when I realised that she left without them – like a goodhearted village-Swiss-girl I ran out to bring them to her. That’s when she confronted me asking – is there nothing they can do to bring me and the 45-year-old friend to talk?
I said: Unfortunately, not. It will simply disrupt harmony. As this man refuses to see the problem he has created. I can only hope time can heal.
So, she asked me what happened in her broken English: “You know, my partner (FtB’s brother) was just saying, how can he say you are not good for FtB? That you are not a nice person? He finds you kind and sympathetic.”
I burst out crying. Because by now I was aware that even the 45-year-old’s Indian GF (who I thought to be a sympathetic woman when I met her for the first time) indirectly implied the same to my FtB – when we were having our fights. I told our Berner-police-lady everything. And she said: “I didn’t know. Now I know both sides of the story. Look it was not easy with my partner, I had to fight a lot to make it better. When I met you, I thought you were cool, but I didn’t think you are right for him either. But it is his choice. You know at the end family comes first. And I am an Algerian and my family is in Bern, and I know how important family is. So, I want to make sure that this transition into the family is easy for you. I said the same to the 45-year-old that I was welcome to the family nicely, so I will make that for you too.”
We hugged and she left.
But I was heartbroken. They don’t know me – be it the 45-year-old or the Berner-police-lady, they don’t know FtB and I as a couple, but they had their opinions of me not being right for him, and me being a bad person. I burst out crying when I came upstairs. My FtB took me in his arms and comforted me. I calmed down.
At least he is on our side. Or so I thought.
Every time we fought since then, it was about his friend. Every time we fought I was told I was being radical, aggressive, unreasonable, etc. It was my boyfriend’s voice, but the words seemed to be that of the Parasite. In moments of clarity from FtB, he would also question the 45-year-old and eventually I learnt that I was not the only person the parasite had wronged. Still, FtB resisted to see the problem. And this Parasite refused to make any effort to apologise.
The last blow came quick. One after the other. A week apart.
Weekend before last, we met the Berner-cop-lady and FtB’s brother and a friend of the cop lady. Things were a bit off – she persisted on how CBD can be causing dependency but doesn’t mind people doing it for fun. I was surprised that she even knew that I have medically prescribed CBD against anxiety, which I rarely take unless hyper stressed and very anxious. And I did so with FtB (as he often mentioned that he did MJ in Barcelona with his friends for fun). A little hypocritical, I thought. Any kind of drugs can cause dependency, and it depends on the person and their character trait. A police woman should at least do her research before sharing controversial opinions. But ok. Not everyone is a researcher.
All of a sudden, I felt as if I am on a fait accopmli, of something big that was about to hit me on my face. I was right. That night my FtB told me he doesn’t see himself as a dad. Can’t think of fathering a kid even if it was artificial insemination. The only way he can see himself in a relationship with a woman where he has to do any such thing was if she already had a kid from before. Even if it was not said directly, it was clearly implied that if I want to stay, I have to accept that or its over. By now I am in love with this man, and I am fighting for us. And the more I fight the more obstacles he seems to create. I am confused. I am crying. I finally accept it.
On Mother’s Day I accepted to give up motherhood. Because I wanted to be with him.
Next morning it hit me. I can’t do it. I was spiralling. I texted him and he called me at midday from work. I was helplessly crying and howling in pain and couldn’t find words to express how much it took away a big part of me as I had agreed to what he had asked of me. How hard that was for me.
That evening when he came back, he said: I knew this was too much to ask. I wanted to buy you flowers and say, you are free to leave.
I froze. All of a sudden what I had said about “my way or highway” in my ADHD moment was coming back to me – month and a half later – in actual manipulation technique. Am I dreaming? Or is this really happening?
He seemed genuinely torn – and said, “I wanted to buy you flowers today and come home with them telling you I can’t ask you of this and letting you go.”
Shock. Pain. “Are we breaking up? Do you want me to leave?” I asked. Like every time we fought, and I was ready to leave despite the pain.
He kept repeating – “I can’t. I don’t know what to say. Or feel. Why is this so important to me? Why?”
Finally, he said – “Fine. I can’t take this away from you because I see this pains you. So yes. Fine by me that you want to be a mother. Whichever way possible. But what is I don’t want to be in a relationship with you then?”
I said, “then you leave.”
Agitated he asked, “then what’s the difference then of me leaving now and me leaving then.”
To that I replied: “Atleast you tried. And after trying you know it isn’t for you. And I will respect that decision and will be able to live with that decision because it came from a place where you tried.”
He just said – “that is a good point.”
And all was glorious again. We had the best memories this week. Together. Perfectly in love. And he showed so much love and he is such a loving person when not influenced or manipulated or pushed by others. But that. That parasitic influence is still lingering, as we were innocently cocooned in love.
Last Friday, we got invited to his brother’s place. The 45-year-old was invited too with his unfortunate girlfriend. I actually feel sympathy for her.
Anyhow. The energy was off. It wasn’t like the first time I came to that apartment, I know how it can feel welcoming when body language, expressions, etc make a place felt welcome. I, felt resistance from everywhere – also the police-lady (but not from the brother, I must say). When I left the table momentarily, I heard laughter and merriment that was absent when I was at the table. On my way home I expressed my concerns to my boyfriend. By now, I am not OK. Too many things are being asked of me. I feel cornered. I feel unwelcome. And he, I realised, was out making assumptions about me without trying to understand where I came from with my observations. It was bad.
**Fair warning, women, if you are drunk and hurt and have ADHD, gag yourself with your fist in mouth but don’t open up at that moment to your boyfriend who has a history of flipping like a pancake after meeting toxic friends.**
It was horrible. I sent a voice message to the police-lady as she had asked me to talk to her freely and trust her. But that switch was flipped too. I knew that she was good friend with the parasitic couple, I knew she was also of the opinion that FtB and I don’t belong together – that I was not right for him… all these opinions they have of me – based on what? What did I do to deserve such scrutiny?
Next morning, was a fight. We resolved it. Then another fight as his brother got talked into believing that I was pushy and rude, and purposely left without saying goodbye (and guess which person had most to say about it – yeah – the 45-year-old, hypocrisy much?) – they kind of reproached me of all my actions, reactions, and inactions (like seriously, I was called out for not participating in a conversation in Swiss German because I was attentively listing to the conversation and not expressing my opinions – WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!!!!!!). Do they even know me? No. Did they try to get to know me? No. But they had “opinions”.
They cornered my Ferdinand. They kept pushing him down. Calling him, texting him, pressuring him, manipulating him; and in-order-to survive, Ferdinand cornered and manipulated me to apologise and pushed me down and metaphorically muzzled me.
Something broke in me that moment. As I apologised to everyone, I started to realise I cannot ever trust this man who made so much effort online to show me his love and affection – ‘cause he will never stand up for me. He will never fight for me. Is this even love? Did he ever love me? Or was it just about having an emotional connection while fucking someone he found attractive?
I tried to talk to him again next morning. But this time these toxic social connections of his had pushed him too far. He asked me to leave. So, I packed my stuff at 7am and took the next train back to Aarau. I realised that I figured him out before anyone else could ever know him. I figured him out before we even started to talk. It was in his eyes and his smile – as I fell in love with my Ferdinand the Bull.
“Young Ferdinand does not enjoy butting heads with other young bulls, preferring instead to sit under a cork tree smelling the flowers. His mother is concerned that he might be lonely and tries to persuade him to play with the other calves, but when she sees that Ferdinand is content as he is, she leaves him alone.”
This hurts. This hurts differently.
But now I know – axioms. My ex turns 40 this year. At 40, you can’t change. A very strong character will have the courage to embrace change and see their flaws, and question everything in and around them, rather than accepting what friends say. My ex already has a pattern of short and intense relationships – and then leaving them hanging. His longest was with L and it survived that long cause he was in Barcelona with her – away from toxic influences – but then he actively seeked out the toxicity by being with a toxic girlfriend. He often said that when he decides to leave someone he will put up a fight and immediately after he will get on with his bounce backs. He will be gone. No messages, no sign of life. He will be gone. He said he’d even tolerate cheating cause he understands, cause he did it too. I had blocked those informations out cause I wanted to see possibilities like the optimist that I usually am. He has a set pattern and it will never change. Perhaps I was his last chance at redemption – but now? Axiom. This is who he is – this is his character – this attitude of his, commends itself as evident. Axiom. It will never change. And his patterns will go on and on and on till his old age and further. It hurts me to realise that I was manipulated to fall in love, to never get love in return. It hurts me to realise that someone I loved so much will be stuck in his hamster-wheel forever and I can’t help him out of it. It hurts me to realise that a person with so much potential is so tied by his axioms that it will always drag him down.
This hurts. Such a waste.
ANTHROPOLOGY OF LOVE 