It's still hard to be around her. Hell, it's still hard to be anywhere. When I look at her, I still see my wife. I still see our children. I still see the future that we had planned that was ripped out of my fingers with no negotiation, no discussion, no possibility of anything other than complete separation. Seeing her is still so painful that I'm constantly on the verge of tears. Being around her makes me so nervous that I have to keep my hand on a glass of ginger ale to keep my stomach from rebelling.
And my mood swings back and forth, with little apparent cause, between anger and sorrow. Anger for being used, anger for being cut off, anger for holding on for months thinking that soon it will be my turn to be cared for, rage for being told that I was "too needy" after being the strong one. Sorrow for the loss of trust that I had built up, sorrow for the months of loneliness and isolation I put up with before getting dumped, sorrow for the loss of our dreams, sorrow that she did not heed my warnings and that she did not change as she needed to, as she said she wanted to.
And slowly the pendulum loses momentum, circling but still not quite settling on complete and utter disappointment. I gave her the greatest gifts I had to give, my love and my trust, and she threw them away. I rearranged my life to be at her side, and she abandoned mine at the first opportunity. I gave her everything she ever wanted. She had total control of the relationship from the get-go, and so I think that if we did not end up exactly where she wanted, she has no one but herself to blame. And, I suppose, neither do I.
It's strange (completely normal, actually), trying to recover from the loss of the only person who ever loved me. From the only person who ever got me. I still know what she's going to say before she says it; it's still obvious how well we fit together (in certain ways, I suppose; some clearly not). There's got to be give and take in a relationship, but with her, it was all one-sided. She made promise after promise, excuse after excuse, but at the end of the day, she felt no obligation toward me or my happiness.
She made me beg for what I needed, and then she chose not to give it. It doesn't matter if she is the first or the only person to love me. If the best she is willing to give is less than what I need, then I deserve better.