It was a boyfriend I had in High School, and we dated from the middle of my Junior year to about the middle of the summer after I graduated. So it was a pretty long relationship. At first, it was alright, but after a while (like the middle of my Senior year) I just got tired of being in a relationship (and just got tired of him), so we sort of grew apart. We finally broke up after I came back from a camping trip that summer that I went away and stayed gone for about 3 weeks. He called me up to tell me that things weren't working and that we needed to move on, because I must not have cared about him too much anyway since I didn't even call him the whole time I was gone.
I wasn't upset over the news. I was actually sort of relieved that I was finally out of that relationship. My only regret was not ending it sooner, but I was really young, and didn't want to hurt his feelings, so I put up with being his girlfriend for all that time.
A few days later, I got a phone call from him and he wants me back. I tell him no and hang up.
I don't really hear from him for a while, but I would run into people all the time that would ask me if he and I were still together. Sometimes, I would get people asking why I broke up with him because that's what he told them, to which I reply that he was the one that broke up with me. I felt like he was telling them that to make me look like an ass or something.
Sometime later, he and his family had a falling out, so my family decided that he could stay with US! This is when things got weird.
My family loved him, and didn't understand why we broke up in the first place. So when he moved in, I would try my best to be hospitable towards him, because he was a guest in my house, even if he was an ex. I thought it would only be for a few days at the most. As it turned out, he stayed for about half a year. I cannot even begin to describe how uncomfortable and angry I was with him being in the same house for so long and my parents allowing it. It only made things worse when he would come on to me, so I would give him the cold shoulder. When I would do that, he would make cutting remarks to me, but never when my parents were around. Oh no. He was a perfect gentlemen then. Also, he would leave notes in my laundry for me to find, and gifts outside/on my door, which creeped me out.
My parents always sided with him when they saw that we weren't getting along, and told me I needed to be more friendly towards him, since he was helping out so much around the house (we were renovating some of the house at the time), and since him being around made my youngest brother happy. So pretty much, I was told that I was being selfish and bratty because I didn't care about how other people felt about him being there and for his situation with his family. They also didn't believe me when I told them that he was trying to come on to me, and it was making me feel uncomfortable. They said that he told them that he just wanted to be friends and that was it. Bull. Shit.
Well, I finally just gave up, and shut down emotionally from just about everyone in my household. I hated that time in my life, but I had no idea what else to do. I was upset and uncomfortable that he was there, and even more upset that my parents seemed to care more about him than me. They would go out to dinner together, and run around town and just have fun with each other. They would usually do this when I was at work, so I guess that I wouldn't know about it, or they felt like they didn't have to invite me because I wasn't around.
He finally got kicked out after he hurt one of my cousin's feelings. He wanted to take both of my little cousins out somewhere (I forget where exactly), but one of them didn't want to go with him. She wanted to chill with me that day. He got angry and yelled at her. She was upset that whole day, and when my mom found out what happened, she told him to get his stuff and get out.
I didn't see him again until I had a class in college with him one semester. We sat on opposite sides of the room, and I never made any sort of contact with him. After that, I didn't hear from him until I saw that he sent me a friendship request in Facebook (which was veeery recently), of which I have ignored because I don't want anything to do with him at all.
So that's my story. I am thankful that I was never in any sort of physically-abusive situation, but he was still a horrible ex because he just didn't seem to want to move on, and I wanted my freedom. No. That experience did not turn me away from love, and I still hope to find someone someday. I'm just hoping that they don't turn out to be as obsessive as he was.
Originally Posted by Dodie16
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