My boyfriend and I were together 4 yrs. He's flawed, but he's a good man. I'm difficult in my own way, of course. I love him dearly but it's never been perfect. He says I'm too critical, I say he's too sensitive. Over and over. We're both hotheads. Arguments every other month that go too far, with hurtful words exchanged. And the ones less often where someone's saying they're leaving forever, the other one's begging them to stay. We tried therapy. It helped, the therapist said she could feel the love between us and thought we could fix it. Then one day we argued and he got mad and didn't want to go anymore.He used to have a well-paying job but got laid off in 2019. Right around the time I moved in with him. He was out of work for 9 months, spending most of his time at home. I started to get resentful and said it was time to go out and get any job he could find. I said I didn't think I could be with him much longer if he didn't. The fights got more frequent and more intense. I suggested he apply at our local grocery store, so he did in early March. I'm a teacher and March 16th our school closed. I came home after getting the news and found out he'd gotten the grocery job the same day. I tried to make amends, to apologize. This only seemed to make him angry. My love was conditional, he said.Now I was home, and he was at work. Early in the pandemic, crazy stressful, 15 hr shifts, much less $$ than he was used to making. He hated the job, thought it was below him, and resented me for making him get it. I tried to support and appreciate him, but I was often short-temperedso it didn't matter. Months went by and he pulled further and further away. We hardly spoke except to argue about whether he did enough chores. No sex or affection. And we couldn't go out to eat or to a movie or museum or to the park or anything else we used to enjoy. Outside the world was getting crazier and we were breaking down.We talked about splitting up in June. Things were unbearably tense. I went to my parents house for 2 weeks to give us space. When I came back, we agreed to keep trying. But he was still distant and sullen. I was even more annoyed and stressed out and critical and anxious.Two weeks ago we had another fight. The chores again. I told him not to worry about them on his one day off, he insisted on spending the whole day doing them, and it felt to me like he was being a martyr. I commented on it and we were off to the races. He went to get his keys, to take a drive and cool down. I knew he was hiding that he'd started smoking again, and he would smoke while he was out. Called him out on that, and his eating habits, in a way I knew was really low and shitty.He said we were done. I didn't believe him. I was in the wrong and I'm sorry, but you'll change your mind when you calm down, I said.The next day, he hadn't calmed down. We were still done. I thought we just needed more space so I went to a friend's for a week. During the week we texted and he said we were still done. I got home from my friend's house, we were still done. Days passed, still done. I begged him to reconsider. Nope, we're done. Too much bad stuff has happened. Too much hurt on both sides. I cried, he cried. Please, I said. We've both just started getting therapy. Let's take time and get emotionally healthy and see what happens. Look at the fucking world burning around us. The last six months have been hell. Of course it made our problems worse. Please. He said no.The house I live in is technically his. We spent two years renovating it. It meant so much to both of us. I'll have to pack my shit and get out. He'll stay. I don't know where I'll go or what I'll do. I don't have any money. My family is hundreds of miles away.But that's not the worst part. It's horrible, sure, but that's not the part that makes me feel like my heart is being ripped from my chest. It's not the part that makes me feel like all my air has been stolen and all my blood has stopped pumping.He has a daughter. I've watched her grow up. When we met she was 8 and now she's almost 13. I love her like she's my own kid. My parents consider her like a grandchild. It's a different love than I've ever felt before. It changed me in many ways. He says I can still text her, but it would be too difficult if I stayed in their lives.The thought of losing her makes me want to lay down and die. It's the worst pain I've ever experienced. There aren't words. I feel like I physically CANNOT go on without him, and her, and us, in the house being a family, as we've been doing for 4 years. And with everything else going on in the world, forget it. We live in California. I hate my job now, there's no end in sight to distance learning, I consider quitting every day, Now I can't, because I'm about to be homeless. I have so much anxiety about the election and the aftermath, it keeps me up at night. The fucking pandemic, for fuck's sake. The constant threat of fires. My dad isn't in great health. My best friend has cancer.But nothing compares to the thought of starting my life over, of living without them and the life we created. Why didn't I think of this when I got involved with him? That if we ever ended, I would be the one having to make the most painful sacrifices?We'd both just decided to seek separate counseling to deal with everything, and we both had our first session just this week. I kept telling him through the summer let's each get help, I know everything's fucked right now but let's get mentally to a better place and see what happens. We never made it there. Now I'm in a mental place that feels like a nightmare. I've lost absolutely everything meaningful that we created in the last 4 years. He gets to keep the house and the child and the cats and all the memories and everything we worked so hard for, and I lose it all.I can't do this. I can't fucking do this. Somebody help me, please. via /r/BreakUps https://ift.tt/357RAOP
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