He got married to someone his mother chose. He couldn't successfully fight for me. But before he flew back to India for his wedding, he told me he wanted to stay friends because he couldn't bear to lose me.
I thought, okay I can do that. I was being mature, strong, because I could keep my feelings for him aside and be his friend. He called me to talk about his new wife, about how he made a mistake marrying her, and how much he missed me. I listened. I found myself thinking and crying about him every night while he went home to her.
He would tell me unwanted things about how she was better looking than me, but I was still the one he wanted because of my personality. I went to bed crying because I wasn't pretty enough for him, so who else would want me?
He would tell me about the fun dates they used to go on, the dates he never took me on. He would tell me it was his “obligation” to show her a good time. I would cry at night because he seemed to treat her better than he ever did me…but he didn't even seem to like her. Was I so worthless that I didn't deserve to be treated like a proper partner?
He would send me pictures of the dinner parties they used to go to, all the friends he introduced her to, the ones I never even knew existed. He posted pictures of them together all over social media, whereas there was never any trace of me, whatsoever. I might as well not have existed.
I cried for a lot of things while he happily moved on. I missed him, but more than that, I missed myself. I had no motivation to go to rotations, and whatever hard work I had put in my first two years of med school seemed to have gone to waste during my third year. I was angry, frustrated, depressed, and didn't know how to change.
Until one day, I told him that I needed to take a break from being his friend. He didn't understand. He was friends with his other exes, so what was my problem? He surmised that I must not be strong enough. I did not disagree.
I didn't talk to him for 3 months. The first month was hard. I kept beating myself up for being weak. Not because I had let him abuse me, but because I couldn't be friends with him like his other exes. My thoughts weren't mine, and it still puzzles me as to how I gave him so much power. But it started getting easier. I felt my spirit coming back. And then…he called me on my birthday. The conversation was cordial enough, but I felt like a pathetic loser at the end of it, just like old times. I couldn't shake that feeling.
I told him that I didn't want to stay friends with him. I didn't tell him why, but he was clearly an energy drain. He believed someone was forcing me to cut him out, because I couldn't possibly have thought of it myself. That's when I realized he saw me as a weak, malleable person for him to play with. He told me I had a lot of growing up to do, and that I needed to get married to “learn maturity”. That would have stung a few months ago. He had pitied me all along for staying single in my late 20s, while his wife was only 22. His comment strengthened my resolve to stop talking to him. I haven't cried since that day.
Maturity is recognizing the toxic, manipulative people in your life. Strength is doing something about it.
It's been almost a year, and I am finally happy again.
1 comment:
I wanna keep you happy forever :)
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