I had the purest, most wholesome relationship in the world. We developed a strong friendship at the age of 15, got together at 16, had our first kiss at 17 and lost our virginities to one another at 20. He wasn’t the best-looking guy and he was far from an “alpha male” but he treated me like I was gold every single day of our relationship. I can honestly say that he had never hurt me. We had a great connection and had every intention to spend the rest of our lives together.
...Until I started wondering what else was out there. I looked around my college campus and saw other girls with these great-looking jock-types. I listened to stories of my friend as she hopped from the beds of player to player, making it sound as exciting as possible. Hook-up culture was rampant and hot guys were like trophies. When I saw girls at or below my smv pull alpha jock types, I started to stupidly wonder if I was “selling myself short”. I’m ashamed to say that I actually began looking down on my poor boyfriend.
I broke up with him at 21, on summer break, simply stating that I felt like we had grown apart. A month later I went back to college. It didn’t take long for me to be approached by the most typical “alpha” player jock that had ever lived. It’s actually hilarious how typical he was. Being hungry for what I felt like I’d been “missing out on”, I took him up on his offer and we became fwb. I knew it wouldn’t last- I’d heard all the stories and seen all the examples. But I decided that the experience was worth the potential outcome.
The potential outcome indeed happened. I found myself getting attached to him. Deeply. Just like the cliche goes, he didn’t feel the same (although he sure claimed to in order to keep me as a lay). He had an abundance of options, way too many to fall for lil’ old me. I fell deeper and deeper as time went on to the point where I found it damn near impossible to let him go. I got badly hurt and embarrassed time and time again but whenever I tried to leave, he would pull me back, likely for the ego boost. It took him leaving the country for me to “let him go”.
Now, 2 years since this fiasco began, I feel dead inside. I can’t stand knowing that I left such a wonderful relationship for such a dumb reason. The most messed up part? My ex boyfriend told me that he still loved me and he forgave me for what I did. He was even open to getting back together. I couldn’t. I could no longer feel any kind of attraction to him anymore. In fact, I couldn’t feel it for anyone. Instead of having an n count of 1 (my potential husband), I now have a raised one. I can only see loneliness in my future; marriage is a far-fetched fantasy. This, I brought entirely on myself.