I’m sorry if this is long and winded, this is the first time in my life I actually wrote in a forum. I’m not sure where to start… Here it goes:

After 14 years of being together, the love of my life has broken up with me, and it’s my fault. We grew up together, I was friends with her older brother. While I was in college, I received a random call  and decided to visit, and there she was. It was electric. An attraction I never really felt with anyone. Throughout my life up to this point, I had a difficult time talking to women, and always felt awkward, not really knowing what to do, and so I never really had a relationship. She was my first, in everything, and I was hers. We were happy, and I would visit her whenever I could. We would go out to the beach at night, to the staring at each other, picking each other’s thoughts, laughing.

Our relationship was frowned upon by her parents, and she decided to move in with me. I couldn’t be happier. But at the same time, I didn’t know what to do. I was just about to finish college with a degree I wasn’t sure I wanted anymore and no direction on where to go or what to do next. I had no career goals. But I had her, and she would be my goal–be happy and in love and raise a family.

When she ran away with me, she wanted to get married. I wanted to do that too, and I wish I had. My gut was telling me to. But I was raised to take responsibility, and told her that I need to do right by both our parents and find a career before we can…

We were together and in love, and for me that was all that mattered. At the same time, I didn’t have a good job that could really support us, and I was terrified about that, trying to take care of a life aside from my own. But she didn’t care–she was happy. And she supported us any way she could. She always tried to motivate me and cheer me up whenever I was feeling down.

So I tried, and tried, applying for jobs to improve our situation, and nothing stuck, while working dangerous night jobs to make ends meet. I got scared and started to drink while I left her alone at home, ashamed that I couldn’t do better for her, for us. She was just a beacon of hope and love, shining so bright, doing what she could to maintain happiness. Problems started to arise, however. For one, I was never able to really open up to her, the love of my life. Then again, for most of my life, I always kept things bottled up, and I had such difficulty conveying my thoughts and feelings that I would just get frustrated and shut down, walking away from serious conversations. I made her cry so much, and yet she still loved me.

After a few years, she reconciled with her folks, and went back to college. Unsure of what to do myself, I decided to go back to school, thinking that would help me improve myself. We both went back to our parents and went to Community College. Then she transferred to University across the state to pursue her science degrees. Whenever  she had time, all she wanted to do was talk and hear my voice, even sync up and have Netflix dates across the state. I felt so guilty about her not being able to experience college life when she was younger, and was ashamed insecure about not having something interesting to say other than ‘I miss you’ and ‘I love you’… I thought it was better to let her focus on college and experience all it had to offer and not worry about us. All she wanted was to be together… And I was finally able to move in with her.

To celebrate, she booked a cruise for us, a first for me. I wanted to show her how much she meant to me, supporting us through it all, and bought her an engagement ring while we were at port. Something that was long overdue. She was ecstatic. When we got back we went to our parents to tell them the good news. I finally thought that I was moving in the right direction.

Sadly, I never learned from my mistakes. And I stopped growing up in college. I never changed. I couldn’t open up and really talk about serious life-changing matters…I couldn’t remember promises I made and stubbornly did not write something so important down. She was lonely, even when I was in the other room. She found friends online to fill the emotional void I was unable to provide for her–they had similar interest with her that I didn’t. She loves to write. She developed a strong bond with most of them through writing and developing stories. They shared similar interests. I couldn’t…didn’t talk…  And I felt guilty and ashamed for not being able to talk to her and express to her how I felt in the way her friends did. I would make it up to her by taking her someplace special to show her how much she means to me because I didn’t know how else to express myself. Brief moments of happiness. And I would make her cry again. She broke up with me for the first time. But I was in a city and new absolutely no one, and she was compassionate enough to let me stay. For seven months I did everything I could to show her how much I loved her. She gave us another chance.

I told myself that I would do whatever it takes, still going to school with the mentality that getting a career would finally help establish a stable foundation. I worked nights… And during the times I had off, I played games or slept. I grew complacent. She gave me an ultimatum. She literally wrote it down for me. And after a year went by, she asked me about it. I was stressing out over almost losing my job, I was worried about bills piling up, car repairs, and trying to pass my exams… I couldn’t remember. We were done. She loved me, but she was no longer in love with me.

And here I am now, sharing this with whoever decides to read it before I have to go to work, still in the process of moving out. I am 34, have no career, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t think I can follow through with school anymore, then again I think I only went to school because that was the only thing I was good at. I  don’t want to be here…I wanted a child. A family…She already moved on, with one of those friends she met online. I know she already made plans to meet him. All I ever wanted was her to be happy. She is now.

I was afraid of failure and too afraid to express myself. I let it happen. Because I couldn’t change. I couldn’t grow.