Five years. Five long, sometimes happy, years is how long I’ve been with the boyfriend. We are your American dream couple. Young, college-educated, good looking (except in the mornings), we both have good jobs with steady incomes. We are both children of divorce and the only children as a result of our parents’ marriages. I have twin brothers from my mom and stepdad, he is a legitimate only child.
We met the usual college way, in a local bar through friends. My friends knew some of his and vice-versa. Insert your usual bar talk, likes and dislikes of the music, college plans, relationship status and all the fun stuff. I do remember asking if he was a psychopath because my last ex was one and I couldn’t deal with two in a row. Thankfully, he isn’t crazy.
Our relationship blossomed fairly nicely. We both had exes constantly trying to interfere with the new relationship which did cause us to have some fights. We moved in with each other fairly quickly. Actually, he moved in with me to be correct. We got a dog together about four months into the relationship. I know, I know we moved really fast with each other. I see that now.
As the relationship grew we started to not only love each other more but we learned things about each other. I am not a clean freak like my mom, if something needs to be done I’d do it but it wasn’t first on my list. He realized he does not like this about me. The main argument in our relationship is that factor. I will admit I have gotten much better at it and he knows but it will probably always be that way with me. I noticed fairly early that for a young man his age he isn’t very…sexual. It is usually me that initiates anything with him. Except lately. Since the Russian I just don’t feel right and I’ve pretty much used any and every excuse in the book to get out of it. Which is very odd for me because I LOOOOVEEE sex. Any way, any where and almost any how I enjoy it.
So let’s forward to year two, maybe three, in the relationship. New apartment, new jobs, he has just graduated from college and I’m still in school. I noticed he was getting much more protective over his phone. Now I’m not one to dig and go through people’s stuff without a reason to. And this pretty much screamed, “Do it!” I go through his phone and unfortunately, I strike gold. A girl he graduated with had been texting him some slightly inappropriate things. “I miss getting to hang out” things like that. I don’t mention it because I’m trying to think of a reasonable way to bring it up. The next day after we go out I check it again. Low and behold he sent a “I wish you could have been there last night” and I kind of lost it.
He found out I looked through his phone and attempted to say I was overreacting. So I said the usual, if I did it you would be pissed statement and he didn’t disagree. Well that really put a damper on the relationship at that point. I no longer trusted him and I was pretty pissed too. He is world renowned for shoving shit under the rug and pretending everything is fine. We have huge arguments and the next day he acts like it’s nothing and everything is all good.
So I say fast-forward six months. And we are at year four, maybe close to that. It had been a rough summer for year three. He was always going out, either bringing me with him or dropping me off at the house. I did and still do blame this on his particular single friend, Frank. Once Frank became single things really changed. All the boyfriend wanted to do was go out, drink and repeat all weekend long. I finally told him how miserable I was with this schedule and how I didn’t think I could anymore. I even told him, “If you want to be single that’s fine, I’m sick of this and I just need to know.” He did his usual I’m sorry dance, taking me out to dinner and paying attention to me. This usually lasts about two weeks. I did this dance for the rest of the year. Anytime I didn’t feel like staying out later or staying in he would tell me I wasn’t fun or I was acting like his mom. I slowly starting just doing whatever he wanted and not asking questions or complaining. Because if I complained, I would never hear the end of it. I think I had lost my will to fight at this point.
I graduated during year four and it didn’t seem like a big event for him. The night before my graduation he went out till about 3 am, got pretty drunk and came home. He was my ride to graduation that morning so he got up, took to graduation then went back home. He managed to change and get to graduation in time. No flowers or card for me after. He didn’t get a card till right before and wrote in it while I watched. He didn’t get me even a little gift because he didn’t think it could be better than my parents’ gift. I just accepted it and moved on. I didn’t make a big deal out of it.
I got to go on a trip out of town with my mom as a birthday gift and the night before he had people over till 2 am. Knowing I had to be up at 4:45 am to get ready to catch my flight. We didn’t even have goodbye sex. At this point I think we were at a month or so with no sex. I just left and he was fine with it. We barely spoke while I was gone, if I tried to call he wouldn’t answer or whatever. I return for my trip and have an interview for my current job. I get the job and am so excited over it. Did we have any celebration? Nope because Frank already had plans and that was what we were doing.
Go two months later, he goes on a weekend trip out of town with Frank and other guys. He barely talks to me during this trip. Which is fine I was busy and had shit to do. He comes back home later than night and of course we do nothing together just Hello and Good night. The next weekend we were supposed to go to my parents’ house and the night before we got in a fight while out. He brings me to the house and I thought we would both be going in. To my surprise, he is just dropping me off at 2 am so he can continue staying out because “I’m being horrible to be around and ruining his night.” I just say I’m sorry and okay and go into the house. He stays out till 6 am, comes home and goes to sleep on the couch without telling me he is even home. I get up and see he isn’t there so I go into the living room and just say, “You come home and don’t even tell me? I’ve been worried sick all night.”
He gets up to go help Frank with some stupid fucking thing and tells me he may or may not be going with me today. I get immediately upset by this, I call my best friend and tell her I really feel like this is the end of our relationship. I go by and see him at Frank’s before I leave and just tell him bye. I get to my parents’ house and just sink into a depression. He calls me and tells me he’s going out and he misses me and our dogs. I take an ambien and pass out.
The next day I stay with my mom till probably 6 or 7 pm that night. When I get to the house he is getting there at the same time. We eat and then I start the inevitable conversation about us. One thing leads to another and we say we probably should take a break and probably not live together anymore. Now you may wonder how a couple goes on a break all while living together. Let me tell you, it isn’t easy or fun. Plus, having to go to work the next day unable to control my crying and swollen, red eyes is just not professional. Thankfully, I was working with just women so they all understood and left me to just work in my office with little interruption except to check if I was still okay. The days went on terribly slow, me in one bedroom and him in the other. He had slowly started moving his clothes and bathroom stuff into the other room and bathroom. We barely talked and I became a clean freak. I spent the afternoon of the second day cleaning the walls and baseboards. Mainly to keep my mind occupied while he proceeded to hang out with Frank every, single night.
That weekend was the worst weekend for me. He went out every night, I had to deal with my first tire blowout and he left me on the side of the highway waiting for a tow truck and then he went out without coming home till the next afternoon.
Now, I have never been one to freak out and chase someone. If a person doesn’t want to speak to me I just deal with it and I won’t speak to that person. So the night he didn’t return home I barely got any sleep. I texted twice and called once. His phone was dead and I knew that. I had called my mom and was just a hot mess of emotions. I was in the process of packing a bag to go stay with them for a few days when he showed up. I just looked at him and said, “So you’re alive and okay?” and he of course was being all apologetic and I, once again, just took it no questions asked. Even though now I know better and should have been in a rage.
So we slowly get back together and things get better for a while. Then it just slowly regressed to how it has always been: barely any affection, no date nights, very little sex, etc. Insert the Russian a little later and then we are here. After our last fight about him doing the same thing that happened last summer he’s been more affectionate and trying more but I know it will have the same end result.
By the way, still no sex. I haven’t had any since the Russian last month. I’m an incredibly cranky young lady but I’m tired of initiating and either being turned down or not getting what I want.