Seedpod

I ended things with my alcoholic ex-fiancé about a year ago. There was a last straw, a last mean and scary binge--verbal and emotional abuse targeted at my most tender spots, manipulation, etc. My boundaries were such that the relationship would have to end if this happened again, and unfortunately it all went down when he was out of town for awhile (unrelated to relationship issues.) I lost sight of any love and compassion I had for him, I was consumed with anger and blame, I pushed him away hard. I cared not a bit that he was suffering, and he was. There was no emotional safety for either of us anymore in the shreds of a bond that once felt rare and unbreakable.

I lost hope and I let go. A nugget of hope remained for a long time, though. He did not want to let go, he could say the right things, he wanted to do the right things, but in the end he never stepped up. He continued to drink and I continued on with life in the frame of mind that it was well and truly done. We had other issues--communication, pot and cigarettes being primary (on both our parts) but alcohol was the only insurmountable issue for me, it changed him so horribly and I did not react even remotely gracefully. He had a long history with it and so did I--my grown children's father was an alcoholic/pill addict who died from his addictions.

So I worked on myself. I began, slowly, to find me again, to be a woman who could be soft again in the world again instead of the often resentful, on guard, expecting the worst, withdrawn pothead who would have one foot out the door whenever trouble started to arise. I found compassion and love for him again. I have faced my own poor choices made at critical junctures and continued to carve out a new shape for my life--new activities, good friends, adventures, immersing myself in learning and applying knowledge of addiction. But it all came too late to make any difference in the relationship--he moved on quickly when he realized that I was seriously done and is now with someone else. Ship sailed, story over and more heartbreak. My love for him became a dull presence that flared up in fits of nostalgia, but I knew time would be a good friend.

We ceased contact a few months ago after the last tie between us was dealt with--getting his stuff out of my home. He wouldn't help, after having many months of opportunity to do so, even after he was in the new relationship. I gave his family whatever they were willing to take and have continued to put out free piles and make goodwill runs--there was A LOT of stuff and it's not all gone yet. I considered it abandoned.

So lately he has returned to the area and has contacted me inquiring if I still have anything. I never expected to hear from him again--when I saw his name in my inbox my stomach flipped and it was amazing how quickly my walls flew up. Danger Will Robinson! Turns out he is being civil and friendly, but I now know he is back and living with his girlfriend. More than I want to know. He wanted to come out with her to get what remains. I said no. I cannot bear to see him again only to have him drive away one last time with someone else. I am open to a storage unit or a pod or something and told him that.

This small contact has thrown me for a loop, ratcheting my feelings of grief and loss up to unbearable levels once again. I thought I was doing better, now I just want to lay on the floor and cry, I am so confused. I could write a book on his wonderful qualities and another on his Mr. Hyde qualities. I don't know if leaving him will be my biggest regret or if staying with him would have been. I cannot stop crying.

Which brings me here. How you approach things on these boards probably COULD have made a difference with us, we are both people who would be responsive to these ideas. The what ifs are consuming me.

I don't know what I'm looking for here, perspective perhaps, a listening ear from people who understand my conflicted and overwhelming emotions. I do commend you all who are trying to find a different path.