Over the last few days, his statuses have been “she” this and “she” that. He is wanting my attention. He gets it as well, but not once have I mentioned his name (I don’t think) in a self pitiful status. I mention how I feel, or I write an impromptu poem, but I never mention his name.

I see people he hardly knows himself, attempting to console him, but with him it is like he wants people to pity him with his woe is me thing – you know what I’m talking about. I know he misses me, loves me, I cry myself to sleep most nights because of the loneliness, but I have to be brutal. once it’s over, it’s over in my book. it always has been. I cannot take him back, because there will be a slim chance that rage he has will take control and I never ever want to be in a position where I resent my partner ever again. Anyone who’s treated me badly can get as many chances as I see fit.

Every other text the week before me and SB broke up was “I’ve had enough” and “I can’t do this”. Every fight we’ve had I’ve screamed at him to get out of my house because it is my house.

I’ve had to put up with insinuations, allegations, jealousy, bigotry. He’d try to restrain me when I wasn’t even going to hit him, just “in case” I did. And I do not like being restrained. He has seen my rage before. He has seen my unwavering strength. He ran into the bathroom with a knife once, pulling an attention seeking non threatening and quite frankly badly executed cry for help mock suicide bid. I took the knife off him and told him:
“If you’re gonna cut yourself, cut yourself properly!” and I cut up my arm in front of him, to call his bluff. It worked, but then he decided to assume I needed medical help! All I did was show him who had the bigger balls as my pain threshold is way higher than his. I wanted to show him that his melodramatic fake suicide bid wasn’t gonna make me mollycoddle him. That is what his mum is for, and I don’t want to be his mum for him.

SB broke it off with me in August 2008 to go fuck some young foreign girl who I let into my house, seeing the attraction between them, let him drive her home, and him with his phone off for two hours. He told me he had a panic attack. I can’t believe that story. he broke up with me the next day and spent the afternoon on the phone to this girl, her saying she’d funnily enough broken up with her boyfriend too. handy that.

He texted me to tell me a few days later he was not coming home. I called and called and when he finally answered, he said they’d already had sex twice. Eventually he came home after me howling down the phone at him. I then got back into contact with that guy who was interested in me at work, hoping to have at least someone to stop my uncontrollable sobbing. The guy came, and SB was asleep on the sofa. He heard nothing. after the guy pestered me I let him have sex with me, but it was the comfort I wanted more. He left early in the morning, and SB heard the door close. He asked if I was throwing his stuff in the bin or keying his car and I replied no, I was letting out some guy. To me, it was payback.

It got to the stage where it broke and he was trying too hard to fix it at one stage, and completely out-of-order other times. He doesn’t like being told when he or his actions are wrong.

Looking back over the last four years, it has been so bumpy. He taught me how to fight back, unfortunately the only person who was the one opposing me, was him. He became stuck in a rut, jealous, and indeed aggressive. We both clashed in such a way it caused tsunami’s. But when we were on the same level, it was like a calm, secret pool.

We stressed out over finances because, well, I paid for mostly everything, and he was always wanting the next gadget, book, piece of clothing. I bought him a new jacket before I bought my daughters one, because he moaned about it for ages. As a mother, I see that was wrong, but I did so to see if it made him happier, but what it did was make me resent the fact he became more of a focus than my own children.

Trying to keep him happy was a draining journey. It was too much work and eventually I gave up. I hated myself for resenting him so much, I wanted space away from him, and that was when my depression settled in comfortably, knowing I could not do anything more for him. As his temper grew, so did my resentment.

I get nightmares of that afternoon. He went for my mobile, jealous that I’d been texting mates, when I tried to get it off him, he went for my throat, pulling away quickly realising that was out-of-order. But for me, that was it. I tried reaching for the house phone, and he caught me in a headlock, causing me to bite my tongue. I got free and went after my mobile again, determined to call someone for help, I got it after biting his hand, then along came another headlock and I was pushed face down onto the couch. He struck three blows just below the back of my neck, all the while he was on the phone to his mum telling her I should get sectioned because I’m crazy… That is not the guy I fell in love with. I don’t know who that was but it scared me to death.

Everyone has baggage, I guess we hadn’t handled ours properly before we got together. It was an aggressive relationship, it just had too much passion. A few people I have spoken to have told me that he told them what had happened without remorse. He turned into a violent, controlling, paranoid, angry person, who blamed everything on either me, my kids, or his Aspergers. It was never because he couldn’t handle situations. He choked me, threw me around the room hand thumped me so hard on the back of my neck I nearly passed out, while on the phone to his mum telling her I needed mental help!!!

I called the police, but for some strange reason so did he. This was the only fight we’ve had that I didn’t fight back. I just wanted my phone back. The police came, and took him away for the weekend. He was left out on bail, under the condition that he made no contact before the trial in May.