I already told you, i knew all along that my trip to Mexico was gonna leave me with mixed feelings, but i don't think i ever could have anticipated exactly how mixed.
Not even after the year i've had.
I should have known better, god knows i've heard it all.
Among my favorites are "she's my girl-bro" and "i'm like her gay best friend".
No one wants to believe they're in love with a liar.
Part of me always knew he wasn't telling the truth.
But i chose to ignore my instincts, even though i should have known by now that they're always right, and i paid the price for it.
The price currently being a sense of unreality.
Because if that entire relationship was a lie, what can i trust anymore? Who can i trust?
And Mexico, as amazing as it was, will now always be tainted by that fact that the one i came there for, wasn't who he said he was.
The good person i thought he was; the one who talked me into traveling across the world to see him, who let me into his home, introduced me to friends and family, encouraged me to follow my dreams, said he loved me, that my happiness was the most important thing in the world to him, the one who talked about his lying and womanizing friends as if they were the lowest form of people, a person who knew almost everything about me, and who knew better than most what i'd been through and how damaged i was... that person doesn't exist.
And as it turns out, he never did.
Some guys have the ability to make you feel like you're the only girl in the world, but i wasn't even the only one in Berlin.
And i knew, i just knew.
And every time my cheatey sense tingled, i should have listened, and i should have kicked his lying ass out of my home and out of my life.
But i chose not to, because he told me time and time again that he was different, he was someone i could really trust. That he was an honest person, that he hated liars, that everything had a logical explanation.
"I don't post pictures of us together online because i'm just a very private person."
Excuse me while i lol.
Well, now i do, but at the time i turned down the noise in my head and trusted him.
But he was cheating almost right from the start.
It wasn't just in Mexico. I knew in Mexico.
From the first week i was there.
And once i started noticing the texts, the familiar suspicious behavior, i confronted him.
I cried, i wanted the truth for once. I wanted him to do the right thing and let me go.
And i wanted to not feel used anymore. For my body, for my company, for whatever it was that he was using me for.
At that point my backup plan was already in motion. I'd found an affordable hostel on a nice street in Roma Norte, i'd even gone by and checked out the location, and made sure i had enough money to stay there for the rest of my trip.
Ironically, he was probably with her while i was doing that!
But as usual, he denied everything and convinced me to stay.
Possibly because his family would have known what was going on if i had left?
Or because he still wanted me around?
I'll never know.
What seems so hard to grasp for me now is why?
When we first met, there was instant chemistry, but i was perfectly happy just casually dating.
But within a week, he'd said "i love you" in three different languages, within two weeks the word "forever" started getting thrown around.
He'd talk about how it maybe meant nothing to me, but his feelings were real.
I suspect it's his thing, getting girls to fall in love with him?
Some people get off on that.
And once he was sure i loved him, he was on to his next project.
It all sounds so obvious now, but when you've been feeling alone and unloved for a long time, that kind of talk is powerful!
And coming from someone you're already falling for, it's downright intoxicating.
So against my better judgement, i let myself fall.
Right before New Years she emailed me. The other Berlin girlfriend. One of the other Berlin girlfriends?
Who even knows how many of us there were?
She wanted me to know.
He lied to her too.
Even on his last day in Berlin, he was with both of us.
He gave me some bullshit excuse as to why he was late, but still came to spend his last night with me, and in the morning i made him breakfast and took him to the airport.
We were a couple at that point, and after everything we'd shared, i just couldn't make myself believe that he'd be with someone else.
Of course i knew as soon as i saw her name in my inbox.
It wasn't as if i didn't know she existed, so it wasn't a exactly a shock, but it still made me wanna throw up, and even now, if i think about it too much, think about all the months i spent with him, spent loving him, it still does.
And i know he doesn't care, he never did, but in case he reads this... in case you read this... just know that i know.
But finally having my fears confirmed didn't actually give me the closure that i needed.
I'm left with so many questions.
Was any of it ever real?
Who knew about it?
What did he tell the girl in Mexico who's now his girlfriend?
That i was just a friend who was crashing on the couch for a while?
Or did she know that he was cheating on her too, and decided he was worth the wait anyway?
Did his family know that he was with us both at the same time? Did they lie to me too?
His mom made me quesadillas, made sure i had warm clothes and cold medicine, and his sisters did my nails, and took me sightseeing every weekend.
I hope they didn't know, cause they are people i care about, who have been nothing but kind to me.
I've been really debating whether to write this post or not.
Then debating whether to post it or not.
I'm very used to sharing, and writing things that are a bit too personal, but admitting that you've been cheated on still carries a certain stigma, doesn't it?
Like, "what's wrong with her since she wasn't enough?" or "how stupid is she that she didn't see what was happening?".
And then there's the "awww" *headtilt* "are you ok?"
No one needs any of that shit.
But i know in my heart that this wasn't my fault.
I gave him everything, more than any one person could ever need, and he still wanted more.
And if someone chooses to deliberately hurt a loving person like me, well, that's their fault, not mine.
The only thing i blame myself for is being too trusting, but after the year i've had, i suspect that won't be a problem anymore!
Writing is how i deal with pain and loss, and i know that in the past, my posts about anxiety and divorce have made a few people feel less alone, and maybe this can too.
By putting my experiences and feeling out here in such a public way, there's a small chance that my catharsis can help another person heal.
I don't know that it will for sure, but it's worth a try, isn't it?
It's been a few weeks since the breakup.
If breakups are like little deaths, the first one of the year was like having a nuclear bomb dropped on me, wiping out my entire life and existence, and the second one was more like getting stabbed in the gut repeatedly by someone gently whispering "i'll never hurt you, baby" in your ear.
The first one cost me my identity, and the second one my faith in people.
My identity has been rebuilt, and is stronger than ever.
My faith in people? I guess i'll just have to wait and see about that.
The year 2014 started off with heartbreak, and it ended with it too.
But it also ended with me finally knowing the truth about the guy i used to love, and however painful that may be, it's still better than not knowing.