By Any Means Necessary

No one is really following this saga but me, but I’ll write it.

My wish and desire to become a father at some point is very real, and I damn well know all the pain I’ve been through the past years for dealing with it and the loss of it. The failed marriage impacted me greatly, but I knew what I was doing all along in terms of children. I stuck with my ex wife for as long as she wanted me there. When she didn’t want me there any longer, I left. And I did so with no hesitation. She could not have children. If she loved me, I would have stayed regardless. She didn’t, so I left. I wanted children, and I could not have them with her. I do not regret that decision.

I met someone new, and thought I did all the right things, asking at the right time, trying to pan it all out by the book. She knew my desire and wish to create a family on my own, and she agreed to it. Then she retracted it and didn’t want any more children. That’s fine. I don’t blame her one bit for it considering her story. But I do blame her for not being able to stand firm on a very important decision. That impacted me greatly, and yet again I took some very hard decisions and broke it off. I don’t regret that either, but it was an extremely tough decision when it was going on.

Then I met someone else. I decided to follow my gut feeling. She asked me i f I wanted children early on (which is normally the way you do these things) and I confirmed I did. I did not ask her back. I followed my instincts, and waited. I read between the lines instead. Kept my head cool. Did not speak much about children either. Did not pour my heart out. Maybe I was afraid of the answer if I asked.

I was more up front with her last night. I told her just that – that I had refrained from asking her so bluntly. She asked if I had been scared of her answer. I sort of replied with a “no”, but I guess it wasn’t really the correct reply, because I had been afraid of her reaction. I don’t blame myself for holding back. Not with my past experience this year, but I asked her last night. If children was a possibility in all this. She confirmed that it was. I replied saying that it was all that I needed. She asked me what if it wouldn’t work out – if she would not get pregnant. What then? I said that in that case it was a whole other ballgame. That is something completely different. It can happen. We’re not 25 any longer. Not 30 either. But it is a “risk” I am willing to take. Because I love her. I see what kind of girl she is, and her type does not grow on trees. She asked me what I would have done if she said that she would not under any circumstance have any more children. I replied that it would not normally go as far as this if that was the case (I would have known by my gut feeling) – but if that had happened (like last time) I would have left. The grief of not having children on my own, if it will come to that, will be something I have to deal with on my own, but at least I am in control of my own destiny. I decided last summer, when I met her, that if I would go along with this it would be a risk I was willing to take. I am more in control of my own destiny now. It simply feels better. It is my decision. Not someones elses.

Walking to work this morning felt easy. It was a relief. I did the talk I knew I had to do at some point, and now I have done it. I am in control of my future. If it doesn’t work out, at least I know it was my decision to go down this path.

I don’t think the grief will ever really go away if I am to be without a child. But I can learn to live with it. Deal with the cards I was given. I will have to deal with many horrible thoughts and reflection on my destiny, and how all this ended this way due to circumstances I could not control or know. I could not know that my ex wife could not have children. I will somewhat always blame myself for choosing the wrong person so many years ago, but I can’t change this. The shocking realization that life is by chance and luck is tough to swallow. You can be the man you want to be, you can believe in karma and always try to do the right things – but it might not be enough, and it’s not your fault. It’s not MY fault it ended like this.

But, it’s not over yet. There’s still a few years to go.

If it doesn’t work out, I might end up with a depression again. I might have to go to counselling again. But at least I can say I tried and took the decisions I thought was right.

Maybe none of this will happen, and in five years time I have settled into the life I made for myself feeling alright with everything that have happened. Coming to grips with it, and accepting my faith.

 

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The Hour of the Wolf

Christmas celebrations came up during a conversation yesterday. I started to think back to last Christmas, and what I did then. I can honestly tell you I don’t remember. I think I walked the dogs on the 23rd of December, sobbing silently while I hanging on to them and being pleased it was so dark no cars passing by me could see how much of a mess I was. I vaguely remember coming back home at night from my parents on Christmas Eve and being happy about a canvas photo I got from my dad. Other than that, I don’t remember. I don’t remember if my dogs were with me, but I think they were. According to photos anyway.

I think I might have stopped by my parents on the 25th. After that I don’t remember anything until New Years eve. Did I go to work those days between Christmas Eve and New Years? Did I stay with my ex-girlfriend, or was she working? I honestly don’t know. I think she was working, and I stayed home.

I looked back at my Snapchat roll to see if I had been taking any photos last Christmas. There was nothing really there. There were a few videos of my ex girlfriends daughter on there, cooking me oatmeal which made me miss her, but that was from January.

I didn’t have a tree, I didn’t have any decorations up. That I remember. I didn’t bother. What was the point in making Christmas all by myself anyway. If I wanted Christmas I could visit my mom.

It was a shitty Christmas. That’s what it was. The worst I’ve had. I was so deep inside my own mind I don’t even remember what I was doing – because I wasn’t doing anything at all. I was just being inside myself, trying to find a way out of it.

And it would get worse before it got better – but I already wrote down that part.

 

 

Between the Darkness and the Light

Fathers day came and went yesterday (I honestly don’t know why the date is different from country to country, but it is).

I was honestly a bit worried about it.

I was worried that I would scroll around on Facebook and see numerous of posts made about dads  and how they are so kind, caring and nice to their children. Photos of dads with their children, smiling – being happy. I was especially worried about posts about dads my own age and how I would react. I know a lot of them by the looks of it (yeah, I did scroll a little). So I worried about that Friday and Saturday. Worried that it would bring me down in jealousy and very real feelings of failure. Why they get so much attention while no one mentions me or say anything about me. It feels like I am not worthy or good enough. Not as kind, caring or supportive. And sure, that ain’t true, but it still pokes my feelings that way.

I was worried it would remind me all too well of what I have been through. Worried about how letting down my mother would be a present feeling all day. Worried that my girlfriend would notice as well. But in the end, I guess it was more about actually being scared that something *could* happen to my psyche instead of it actually happening. Like actually developing a migraine because you are shit scared of getting one in the first place.

It would have been different if I had been all alone that day, but I was with people that I care about. I was kept occupied, and had little time to think about it. I did alright. It was actually when I started to think about why the day turned out alright I got bummed out, and let’s forget the bad dreams at night. They often happen anyway. It doesn’t count.

I thought of telling my girlfriend that I had been worried about Fathers Day and how it all went pretty well in the end, but in the end – I didn’t. I don’t really tell her much about this at all. Not like with my ex where I opened up like a flood. I guess I learned to keep my mouth quiet. Maybe that’s a good thing, maybe it’s not, but if taking a left turn last time around resulted in shit happening, I take a right turn this time and hope for the best.

So, happy belated Fathers Day to you guys and fuck all of you. 😉

A Distant Star

Dear P

You know I saw you twice last week? You walked past me while I was in the school yard with my new girlfriend and her daughter. You looked at me didn’t you? I looked at you, but I wasn’t sure it really was you. I realised it really was you when someone called out Your name. Then I knew. Then once again last Saturday. I’ll tell you more about last Saturday later.

I haven’t seen you since I acted like nothing, said something non-important and closed the door behind me for the last time. You stood there non the wiser with your mothers arms on your shoulders. Your mom knew I wouldn’t see you again, you didn’t know and wasn’t told. Not until I was gone and your mom could tell you anything she wanted. In private. Without me to tell my side of things. Maybe your mom was nice about it and said we broke up because she didn’t want any more children, and explained how I wanted children – which obviously does not add up that well together. Perhaps that was it? I asked her how you took it. She just said you nodded and told her it was alright. Like it was no big deal. Maybe that’s the truth you know. But what if it’s not? Maybe you feel like I do, because I really miss you sometimes. Is there a chance that since I miss you, you also miss me? Do you know that last time I was with you for breakfast? How I knew it was the last time we had breakfast together and my eyes were all swelled up and I struggled so badly not to cry? I knew it was the last time we spent time together. Your mom didn’t even get it.

I am terribly sorry for coming into your life and then disappearing without a trace or a word. I gave you good night hugs, played video games with you, watched TV with you. And then it was no more. You will come to realize this later on, when boyfriends pop into your life, that they will mostly disappear again. Just as you will do with your boyfriends when they disappear, I don’t really think much about your mom any longer. But it’s different with you. I often think about you. I walk past your dads house with my dog, and I always hope to catch a glimpse of you. To wave or say hello.

Do you remember that time when I basically begged your mom to look after you while she was at work? When we went to the movies, ate candy and sent your mom funny Snapchat photos? Do you know that taking you the movies opened up a world to me that I had never been in before? I could finally get a sense of how its like to be a father and take a 10 year old to the movies. We met an old acquaintance of mine, do you remember? He looked at you. He was probably wondering if you were my daughter or not. I didn’t correct or inform him about you. I liked how his mind most likely wandered to “wow, I didn’t know he had a daughter”. For him, perhaps he concluded that you were my daughter. I was so proud. I felt proud. I was proud that you wanted to go to the movies with me. Trusted me in your company. Proud that I was an adult taking a little girl to the movies. It was as exciting for me as my first movie date with a girl back when I was 11 years old. That is how much it meant to me. Maybe above all things, I felt normal.

You know, I’ll tell you in my words why I’m not around any longer. Your mother changed her mind. She didn’t tell you that didn’t she? How she with such emotion and care told me she wanted another child, and that it would be with me. How we both cried out of happiness that we had decided on an important issue. It wasn’t about trying for a baby at once. It was just a general agreement that this would be part of the deal if we stayed together. Maybe in a year, maybe in two, or maybe in three. Its something you will discover when you get older. Its an issue all adults discuss at some point sooner or later. But two months later she changed her mind. She changed her mind about a very, very important issue. Online, if you read American articles about it, they call it a “dealbreaker”. She changed her mind. It put me in a horrible decision where I had to choose between her and you, or a potential future with my own children. It’s such a huge gamble to take, but I had to follow what I thought was right. I was right to leave your mother, but I feel very bad for her still. I am so sorry she went through so much in the past. Your mother is very strong. Hopefully you will understand what she’s been through once you get older. When thats said, I can’t forgive her easily for how she messed up my world just when I was coming to grips with it. I have been so mad at her for it. So frustrated. So pissed off. So angry at how she accused me of things, calling me things. It was such shocking behavior. I wasn’t used to it. I am still frustrated about it. What she might tell her friends, her family or new boyfriends about me. I wish I could tell you my side of things. You would understand.

And then came last Saturday. I was not far from you. You didn’t see me inside the building. I saw you leave though. My girlfriend was talking to her ex. Isn’t that funny? I didn’t like it that much. I often feel a bit left out in these situations. Her ex got two children. Even adults compare themselves to others you see. I do too. And so I feel left out and bummed out because I compare myself to him, that damn ex. I feel lonely even. Imagine that, lonely even with so many friends, family and even a girlfriend that cares so much for me. I was standing there, feeling exactly those things when you walked past heading for the exit. You, the first girl I ever had any parental feelings for so close to where I was standing. With my new family all occupied talking with this ex-boyfriend, I decided to walk after you and say hello to you. Reach out to you. If you were far away, I would shot out your name and make you stop. Ask how you’d been. How school is. How your mother is (thats just for politness you know). Tell you how I often stay just two houses away from your dad or ask if you remember when we went to the movies.

I hurried out the door and turned right – around the corner. I saw you walking down the street. Just 40 meters away.

I chickened out. I didn’t shout your name or do any of those Things I wanted. I just saw you leave.

I wonder how long it will take until I will see you again somewhere and maybe muster enough confidence to say hello.

Afterwards, my girlfriends seven year old daughter said she liked my girlfriends ex better than me. I know she’s just trying to annoy me and seek attention, but my legs were all shaky and I felt really bad. Mostly because I so badly wanted to say hello to you.

Maybe next time?

I miss you.

The Long, Twilight Struggle

You accused me of being grumpy when I came into work.

I replied I wasn’t grumpy or annoyed or even mad.

Sometimes I have a lot to think about; I am disappointed with the choice I made of who to love and be with, and I am frightened about doing them again. I am worried that I will not feel or be fulfilled, and that I will constantly, for the rest of my life, walk around with a feeling that I can only describe as a heartache that will never end for as long as I live. You know I read that one time? That having no children and wishing you had children feels like a never-ending heartbreak? Like when your 17 and your boyfriend dumps you and you think you will never get over it? Only that for me, due to what happened, it will never go away? It scares me. And I often wonder where all this came from? It wasn’t something of an issue that occupied me at all when I was younger. It was only when it was taken away from it dawned on me. When did I become like this?

But hey, I have control now. I am not pouring my heart out to my girlfriend about it. I shy away from it. I do not feel like escaping life by looking up B&Bs somewhere along  the British southern coastline, go down there alone and lock myself in that room and hide from society. But even if I keep myself in order, I have periods of feeling worried and sad. That’s what you see when I come into work with a strict face, few words and a couple of deep sighs. I am not grumpy. I am just worried about life. Disappointed with the past, and scared about the future. Maybe this is how it is when you grow old and more than before look back at your life and judge your actions? Suddenly I have a whole decade to look back upon as an adult. No wonder I am worried.

I am not grumpy. I am frightened, disappointed and worried.

Objects in Motion

This will be “problems of the western world” type of post. I ask for forgiveness for it before I have even written more than a couple of words.

I often feel like life is like a train journey. Some people get on one train and stay onboard the train for the duration of their journey – until the end. Other may change carriages on the same train a few times. Other may get off the train, board another and then stay onboard. Others may change trains numerous of times. Maybe even going different directions. Getting off one train going north, and boarding another going east. You get the picture.

I feel now that I have changed trains and carriages so many times it wears me out. My traveling is getting harder and more difficult. I am not as young any more, and all the changes have taken its toll. My legs are sore, my clothes are dirty and the smell of Diesel oil have filled my nostrils. I am travel-worn. Tired of changing directions in my travel, and constantly trying to adapt to trains that goes quicker and quicker towards the end station where it all terminates. I have lost a few of my bags along the way, left on several stations. I have no more drinks with me, and a bottle of beer is left at the station two stops ago.

Yet again I am now on a journey on a train going somewhere. Maybe I just changed carriages this year, but is a new carriage with new people, new faces and new customs and culture. And I am trying to adapt, not loosing myself in the process. I have left parts of me behind, and I can’t go back to pick them up again. I am constantly moving forward. And like many people on the train, I feel like a lonely traveler. I am with many people in my carriage, even someone new I care deeply for, but it is me – and me alone. No one will ever stay with me for the duration of my journey. It is a lonely feeling, and I have not felt it before. It is even scary, and I wish I could do like children do when they are going somewhere without their parents – put a sign on myself that says “I am traveling alone”.

In the end I guess I am just hoping that I will keep most of my belongings and personality once I depart the train at its final destination. And perhaps to trust someone enough to take the rest of the journey with me – or perhaps understand and accept that I have to do it myself.

And the Rock Cried Out, No Hiding Place

Last weekend I went to a birthday party. He turned 31 years old – quickly becoming a very grown man. I went alongside my brother and a mutual friend the same age as the birthday boy. I’m some years older than them. My brother just turned 30.

I had not spoken much to this mutual friend for a while, and I noticed his subjects had changed from somewhat childish anecdotes and memories of past drunken adventures to subjects such as starting a family, children, and pregnancies. Apperantly, his current girlfiend wants two children before she turns thirty which means he have to be up for the task within four years. He was obviously up for it from how he spoke about it. He also mentioned briefly he had spoken to the birthday boy about children just a few weeks ago, and told us that the birthday boy had admitted to him that it wouldn’t be too long until his girlfriend would be pregnant. I got the feeling from that (and from later on that same evening) that they were trying for a baby. One of the other guys in the group going to the birthday party had just become a father himself.

It is moment like these I have to fight my own mental state. I have to fight back that I feel down because I am older than them. I have to fight back all dark thoughts of failure and a feeling of loneliness which I cannot really explain. I have to keep fighting back feelings of disappointing my mother for not having been able to start a family and give her grandchildren. It can be hard to deal with.

I consider the birthday boy one of my best friends, and I remember the therapist I saw asking me last spring about what would “tip me back to where I was mentally last winter.” I immediately replied that if the birthday boy would become a father, that would be devastating to me. I am not sure if this is the case now, but I am very scared of how I will feel, act or even respond when or if this happens.

I am a competitive guy. I like to compete, and I like to win. The birthday boy had invited us all (a group of six or seven guys) to go Go-Karting for the day. I had not done that for about 17 years, but I have a bit of simulation experience which gave me the upper hand in the past at least.

On the way to visit birthday-boy, I had been fighting my demons for the past hour or so, and could not shake the feeling of being a failure or “less” than many of them due to all this new information and all the talk about children which took my by surprise.

I can’t really explain why, but I took my fight to that silly Go-kart track instead. My failures (or my feelings of failure), feelings of being a loser, someone at 36 who cant even start a family, disappointing my mother, and just feeling down and out. And you know what, I took the worst side of my personality onto the track as well – jealousy. Because I am angry, sad and jealous that they are planning, creating and looking forward to having children and a family. I was jealous and sad.

Now, the birthday boy has a bit of experience Go-Karting. He had been doing a bit of research beforehand – studying the track and reading a bit on the subject. He was ready and rumour said he was  a natural at it.

The Go-Karting we did was all time-trial. All about getting in that fastest lap. The birthday boy won the first 10 minute stint. He was about 0.300 seconds in front me. After a quick break,  I got back onto the track for the second 10 minute stint. And I wasn’t going to let him win this one.

I drove like a madman. I pushed that damn Kart so hard the wheels were screaming in pain around every bend and turn. I might end up on the loosing side of not fulfilling my biggest dream of becoming a father, but I would sure as hell end up as number one on this damn track. I wasn’t gonna let them get me down here. I had to win at something, and it had to be here. There was no other choice.

After I was done, I could hardly pull myself out of the small Go-Kart. My arms were numb. I struggled heavily pulling off my drivers suit. I could hardly take the helmet off my head. My hair was completely soaked in sweat. My mouth felt like a cotton ball. I desperately craved for a water. I was dizzy, and I could hardly stand up. I looked at the others. They seemed fine. Everyone was a bit tired, but I was completely worn out. All this after 20 minute of Go-karting and I consider myself in pretty good shape. All my jealousy, anger, frustrations and anxiety was left there on the track.

We looked at the track times. I did it. I was first. An inner sigh of relief. I was quickest. I had beaten the kart-researching-most-likely-father-to-be birthday-boy. I had beaten them all. I felt fucking good. Its not a side to my personality I am very proud of, but it made me feel better. I had thrown out of all my demons and insecurities for the evening. They were left on the track. I was first. I won. The old guy won.

Outside, I overheard one of the guys saying I had been driving like a person possessed.

Afterwards, in the evening, I had a headache and felt sleepy. I didn’t feel better until I had had considerable water to drink. I was dehydrated.

Two days later and my arms are still sore.

 

Infection

Well, I’m stuck with a severe inflammation in my groin due to way too much football and way too much sporting activity in general. My right knee is also screwed due to a lot of biking.

I can’t remember last time I sat in front my computer for a relatively long period of time to write, talk with friends online or read articles about my hobbies and interest. I have barely had any time to sit down at all this summer. I really haven’t. I’ve been occupying myself with anything I have been able to. I have never been so active. And while I do enjoy a more active lifestyle now, and feeling more pleased with my shape and form – I know theres a more sinister explenation for it.

I do not like to be alone with my thoughts.

They say millionaires don’t feel particularly more happy even if they are loaded, which may be true. While I do feel more happy and more at peace now that I met someone special I can’t be around her 24/7. I am more content than I was seven months ago, but troubling thoughts are lurking in the background. I have to fight every day to keep them at bay. I have severe wounds I am still trying to heal – perhaps they will never really heal and I will just have to live with them. So why I feel rich and happy, I live a very two-sided life where everythings good on one side, and I have deep rooted fears on the other.

I often volunteer to sit by my girlfriends seven year old daughter while she is falling asleep at night. I know that when I do that – when it’s all dark in the room and I hear the little girl twisting and turning, trying to fall asleep – my dark thoughts come creeping. Sometimes I even welcome them. I don’t know why.

I am scared the relationship won’t end up a happy one, and I will loose them both at some point.

I am scared I will be older and less attractive by then – which will decrease my chances of creating my own family. 

My mind wanders back to those days of trying for a baby, and failing. The constant feel of emptiness and loneliness. I get upset from just thinking about how sad I was. I am often scared I will fall back into that place.

I am constantly feeling ashamed and disappoionted in myself by not providing my mother grandchildren and more happiness in her life. I can’t look into her eyes. I have failed her.

Time is running away from me. Years go quicker, I grow older.

I feel like I have halfways lost a dear hobby and an interest of mine, and I don’t know why this is.

And so I have kept myself at an insane level of activity for months now. I don’t like to be alone, I do not like to be at home. I don’t like myself when I’m alone. I am scared of not handling it.

I used to love my own company. Perhaps especially during the weekends. The feeling of the quiet atmosphere in the mornings. A walk with the dogs around nine. A few pages written in a book by eleven. A bottle of Coke in front my PC before noon. Just enjoying my hobbies. And now I am constantly running away from it. On the move. Going somewhere. Biking somewhere. Running somewhere. Being social. I hardly recognize myself.

I made myself some new art the other day. It will stay on my wall for a long time. Anyone who have read my blog will know what its about.

What have I got to lose
When I’ve already lost it all
Maybe this time he’ll say a prayer for…
Say a prayer for the damned
For the damned

sixxam

 

 

 

The Exercise of Vital Powers

When you get yourself involved with someone like I have now done, there might be more to the deal than one person. The fantastic, wonderful girl I am dating have a seven year old daughter. Last night, as she (the daughter) poured her heart out to me about her worries about starting school again, I once again realised there is much at stake here than simple romance. For both the daughter and myself really, but let’s stick to me. I always look at the future in all ways. From the absolute best outcome to the worst. In this case the worst would be a break-up and a seturn to a state of a lonely bachelor with no children. I wouldn’t be losing just my girlfriend, I would be loosing the daughter as well – which would mean a double blow. Because I do get emotionally involved. She will always have her, but I will loose both.

I had a nightmare a few days ago. I have spent a few days trying to figure out why I woke up with a high pulse and had a trouble going back to sleep. Not like me at all to wake up like that. All I did was dream about the daughter of my previous girlfriend. It was her birthday. I realised that I miss her. Not my ex-girlfriend, but the daughter. While my ex-girlfriend did a good job at severing ties and making bloody well sure I made the right call, her daughter had nothing but trust in me. And when my ex disappeared out of my life, so did she. And I do miss her daughter. I like children. I like to take the role as parent. It fullfills me. I know all this. I know myself enough to know why I would like children on my own. And I often wonder what I mean to her and if she misses me too. Maybe she doesn’t. I also feel somewhat guilty for entering her life like that and then disappearing without explaining why. I guess my ex did explain, but I sometimes wish it could have been done differently.

I understand that as a male I am playing a very risky game with high stakes when I meet single moms. I often get anxious just thinking about it. But I can’t do anything but do my best and hope for the best and step up to the task. And I do. But I am scared of bad outcomes. I will loose a lot if that happens. And then it will be just me again. Alone. My responsibility and trust given to me by her as a father figure will be gone.

These are vital powers at play and I feel I am simply along for the ride. It scares me. It scares me just how much is at stake here. For her sake and mine.

And for you P, I am sorry I disappeared so suddenly. It wasn’t all my fault. Maybe I will see you again. I miss you, and hope you are ok.

Ghosts of girlfriends past. Part 7.

Right, I’ll do something else now. I’ll re-visit a few of my short-time and long-time girlfriends (don’t worry, there’s not many of them!) and do a short summary of it. I might turn out anything from hilarious (mostly the first ones) to very serious crap. Anyway, I’ll do it because it feels like something I want to do.

Girlfriend #7: The one who changed her mind

Who was she?
She was a pretty blue-eyed blonde my own age. I met her at a reunion party. I got in touch with her a few weeks after the event. We immediately hit it off. We had much to talk about, and spent hours telling each other about our lives. I am still confident it was mostly about her, but I chipped in. I dug deep down and poured my heart out. Like she did. It was fantastic at first. She had two wonderful children. I got involved with them as well, especially the youngest. I was prepared, and more than happy, to give her the stability she so rightly deserved. There was only this thing…

Why did you date her?
She was pretty, very caring and I immediately took to her. She was kind. And I wanted a family. I guess we hit it off while both being in a bit of a dark and emotional place.

Why didn’t it work out?
Well, let me say this at once; no one has ever been so fucking nasty to me when we broke up than she was.

She came to me after a month or so and said she was willing to give me children even if she had two of them, because she loved me that much. She understood it meant much to me. She changed her mind three months later. It put me in an extremely difficult situation where I had to choose between her and her little family and the potential of my own biological children in the future. For some time I didn’t know what to do, and I was furious she had changed her mind. This is a thing you just have to be 100% certain about from the get-go. No hesitation. Generally speaking; are you open to children or not? She thought it was all about her too. She wasn’t able to seperate between my general wish for children and the potential wish of having them with her. Anyway, you can’t go back and forth on this, otherwise shit will happen – and it did. In the end, I broke it off. My desire for my own children weighed too heavy on me. If you ask her, I’m sure she will say she broke it off, or we agreed upon it together. Fine. Whatever.

The last we really spoke to each other online, she sent me really nasty messages implying I was mentally unstable and not quite right in the head. Never before have I experienced such nasty and unappropriate accusations. I am still shocked!

Where is she now?
She found some other guy a month later and even had the nerves to tell me on Snapchat and even saying “he was everything she looked for in a man”. After that message I deleted her from my Snapchat and Instagram and unfollowed her on Facebook. I mean, what the fuck?!

What would you like to tell her?
Plenty.

Listen, I know your ex boyfriends really screwed you over and I guess after those experiences you immediately think you see the same in me. But I put a lot of trust in you. I told you about myself and what I had been through lately – and you used it against me. You accused me of some very serious stuff and I can’t forgive you for it. Is this how you talk to people you love or did love? Yeah, we were both in a dark place last winter, but I tried to help you with your problems. You simply used mine against me.

In the end, I feel pity for you. I am so sorry you have had to go through so much shit in the past you did not deserve. Honestly, nobody deserves what you’ve experienced, but you made some choices when you were younger. You had a choice. You chose wrong. If we had met at 25 I think we would have been great. If I had met you 10 years down the road – it would have been great as well. It’s just the wrong place and wrong time. But here’s your problem; I could have given you everything you wanted. Stability. Someone faithful to you. Someone who could protect you, love you and keep you safe. But you decided the cost was too great. No more children. And so our roads split, and we won’t talk again. But I will never forget what kind of position you put me in, and what you accused me of.

Dark places requires dark songs, and this sums up how everything was in February.