Why I Put Up With You, And Why I Finally Quit

The best reason I can think of why I tried so hard for us to be together was because I saw potential in you. For some godforsaken reason, I don’t know why. I thought you could work on yourself as a boyfriend, because you were a terrible one, but I was willing to stick it out with you for you. But it was like living in hell when I was your girlfriend. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t feel like I was bothering you or holding you back from being a bachelor. I wanted you to see what was sitting right in front of you, because I was a damn good girlfriend. I did everything I could to make you happy, but it obviously wasn’t enough. For you to be happy, you have to have several partners, and that just wasn’t for me.

I wanted to be with you for multiple reasons. Yes, there were times that you made me unbelievably happy, but those times were in the beginning of our relationship. I was to you like a shiny, new toy is to a child. They are happy and excited they have it for a couple weeks, but then get bored and venture off to find a new one to play with. You told me that you were ready for a committed relationship, so that’s what I thought we had. You told me everything you wanted to do as a couple. You wanted to go apple picking, pumpkin carving, have snowball fights, and everything else in between. Yet, you gave me numerous reasons why I couldn’t trust you.

I knew your reputation, but I took a chance on you because you told me how ready you were for a stable relationship. You said that you weren’t going to cheat anymore because your friends would “beat you up”. I believed you. I trusted you. For the first few weeks. Then something in my gut told me something was wrong. I saw you still had Tinder downloaded on your phone, and that was an immediate red flag. You were talking to girls on there, getting their numbers, and asking them to hang out. You even told one that I was okay with you hanging out with her. To say I was livid is an understatement.

I gave you another chance, I shouldn’t have, but I did. I fought you to delete your Tinder, which is absurd because you should have deleted it once things started getting more serious between the two of us. You finally deleted it after we had a long, drawn out discussion about it. Then, a couple weeks later, I heard from your ex that you were asking her for inappropriate pictures. I heard all of the excuses, “I was drunk,” “My best friend took my phone,” etcetera. First, being drunk changes your behavior, not your morals. Second, I was texting you right when it happened and I knew that I was talking to you. Then, you were crying to me over the phone telling me that you would never do it again and threatened that you were going to wrap your truck around a tree. You wouldn’t let me break up with you, but we were broken up on my end because I couldn’t take being your personal doormat.

After months of on the verge of breaking up and being together, I found out a lot about you. For example, I found out all of your “side chicks” names. All seven of them. I found out that you were an abuser, emotionally and physically. I should have left you after you put your hands on me the first time. And after you called me worthless and crazy. The only crazy thing about me was that I still wanted to be with you. But for some odd reason, I still saw potential in you. I thought that maybe I was doing something wrong. Why was I not enough for you? I did everything I could to please you. I must have been too easy for you, because apparently you like games that make things difficult. Who knows?

All I know is that I gave you multiple chances, and I tried. I tried really hard. At the end of the day, after everything you put me through, I still loved you, but not anymore.