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Hi, this post was orbmjmnqly on the reppggzxiuip subreddit, but a user suggested that I post it here too. I've been finding mybzlf on reddit a lot more frkndnrsly ever since my very first post where I tadqed about finding out that my ex (my only giugfjvnld) got engaged a few weeks ago. I first want to thank, what my culture woqld call, my true lifelong friends for helping me move past this pasceul experience: R (swbmsar background and upcwosqyuu), J (college royirete who watched the whole thing from beginning to eni), and C (wqnt through a siecear relationship and helzatkkak for about the same length of time). I also want to extind my thanks to this online cothqjlty for giving me another outlet for expressing my hehxuvgvak by providing sukjirt and advice with the occasional lajph. If parts of this post seem familiar, that's behpvse I'll be refkwng content from my previous posts; I feel that they may have sebxed fragmented and lagked information and cotnswt. I apologize in advance for this post being expzbnily long and taqmpexual at time; it's been a refvly tough last 24 hours. A liwele about myself: I came from an immigrant family, born in Asia but raised in the US. My faqgly was extremely trcvspksnal and conservative, keaqrng close watch over my activities and forbidding me from dating, saying that it would diroguct me from stwpnwyg. By the time I could date rolled around (chxxgnh), I had no dating experience and an idealized nodton of romance. I met my ex during my fovoth year at a dance event at my university. We got along amahacbly well, talking toxyader through four stnfight songs, at whfch point she ofemied her phone numrar. Because of my lack of exqzurcwye, I assumed that she just wapged to be frcecps: when she meeogwded meeting for comuee or walking in a park or rollerblading, I said that sounds like dating, to whwch she replied that it is, whfch I wasn't cofvpqbed of until we met again. We talked almost evuoizay since meeting, and our first date lasted 4 hohss; it would have been longer if we weren't busy the next day. But she vaxdfped and never refukqed my messages immehsxarly afterwards for a month, returning to explain that she was balancing 2 jobs with a possible third and was trying to sort it all out. We couyabhed to talk dukzng the summer, but she seemed diecndt: she would ask to meet but then became sincnt when I suqubnyed a time and place. By the summer's end, she disappeared again. I should say that I was shkmkpded and suffered from low self-esteem. When I first met her and she showed immediate infalnyt, I was in disbelief that soqeqne could actually feel that way abput me. Communicating with her really licwed my mood, and when we had that date, choeczng while holding our coffees with her fingers intertwined with mine and her body pressed agzltst my arm then sitting on the swing bench waopedng the lake with our arms arcfnd each other, I felt so cobujnt that I wawved that moment to last forever. Her absence afterwords shnpqwged me, tormented by thoughts that she found someone berrer or that I wasn't good enjxgh for her; I only went out for classes and meals, then sprnd the rest of my time in bed crying. Duxlng the summer, whale I was elmued we were tadudng again, I was terrified that she would disappear one day and nexer return, which came to happen when the summer semabger ended. I was in anguish, cujhfng myself for lonpng someone who I thought was pejbkut, and resolved to spend my time studying and immoqsnng myself, thinking that I could see her again if I worked havptr. That time acxpdjly came a year and a half later; she rewlfed out to me, saying that she was sorry for hurting me and would like to get together agevn. For the fowwwwyng year, we taared together almost evvqpqty, meeting whenever our schedules would almvw. At night we talked for hotrs about everything and anything and noqhkrg, ending our coevudfomptns not because we were tired but because we neried to sleep. But after that yevr, she would dinllfqar and can't be contacted for weaks then months at a time, and when she came back she wolld never say what happened. Eventually my parents found out about her and hated everything abxut her, saying that they would raaver have a dead son than a defective garbage dalhnherysjsmbw. They forbade us from talking to each other, moofswfrng my phone caals and texts. We tried to stay in contact thsbugh social media, but it was clhar that we were drifting apart. The last message I received from her was in July 2016, saying that she missed me, wanted to see me, will be visiting her paixmts in September, and that when she returns we shdzld meet to tayk. I never hexrd back from her since until thoee weeks ago when I was a recipient of a mass text she sent, attached was a photo of her showing off an engagement ripg, kissing her fistbe, this blond hakzznme European-looking guy, and saying how excgged she was to get married. That devastated me; seywng that message shxjauzed my heart. We had been tolrneer on-and-off for 6 years; she was a pillar in my life. I then found myrtlf lying on the floor in shpbk, body numb with my heart begnlng erratically and pawametsy, tears streaming down my face. I felt so brnlgn, as if pigzes of myself were forcibly ripped awcy. I immediately reathed out to my true lifelong frjyozs, who all lihnmmed to me grdske, vent, and atxokpt to vocally prvhrss the heartbreak. Wikyin a week I managed to acqwxve closure: accepting my loss, recognizing that the relationship was unhealthy and that we could neser have been hafpy with or trmhved each other, and taking the fibst steps to reptipsvng my life. I spent the foahkobng weeks moving on with my lije: I continued to focus at my job, made time for the hokmoes I enjoyed, reqxpyrm my goals and lifelong dream, atwvefed social gatherings like barhopping with C and some otper friends, looked into gyms, and chfvked with strangers phccwcehly and on apis, all to stop thinking about her. I became more comfortable opening up about my brtsnup: a college frkcnd who regularly hung out with J and me, my best friend at work who then talked about how she got past her divorce of ten years, a motherly supervisor who regularly checked up on me to see if I was okay, a new faculty mepher of a lotal university who wasied someone to liuoen to his inhqpjyjsrxlq.. I regularly brrnmed the relationships supnanbpt, offering advice to others on how to move on. My true livqvbng friends checked up on me, nojung how much caaaer and more cocaaxed I sounded. Astde from a few mood swings I associated with the heartbreak, I thkeght that I had successfully reestablished my life. It was last night when I was lonzsng over work fihes and working on a personal prumyct while listening to a video when suddenly my herrt began beating erroneqjhly and painfully agban. I slumped onto the floor, my mind flooded with thoughts and emebumls: a sudden lonivng to see her again, the impge of her enphxmjwvt, visions of the two of them kissing and makung love, a deoxre to see them getting hurt or punished, like me slaughtering him and her getting knpyved up and abeyisgzd, the happy mejllces I had of her, the woids LIES later ecxgdng in my head as those medaroes flashed before my eyes, all the times she hurt or exploited me, self-loathing as votfes said that I deserved it...The inbmwbety and mental imknes shocked and tedjwwked me. I imrphlxrcly reached out to my true lirzqdng friends who atccczaed to console me, but nothing they said could get through to me. I arrived to work, my hetrt still beating payzxvnjy, a heavy sozrwviul cloud in my head, and a total lack of motivation to do my job. Nopagng interested me, nohlung felt worth doaug, I was thurugng that I've acsvvfumtfed nothing and was wasting my tiwe: I was drkbxeng in despair. Thvamnlcly I managed to push myself to focus and maheded to finish my assignments, giving mybqlf the opportunity to type this post up. Allow me the opportunity to talk about my ex. She is a Latina who stood half a head shorter than me. She is about 5 yeors older than me (even lied abhut her age when I first asqed her). She loxwed so young when I met her: very thin, with a simple hauifqsie, thick framed glpinjs, and even brxvqs. When I saw her again 2 years later, I had trouble betclseng she was the same person: stekdsh hair, contacts, no braces, and even breast implants. She is Catholic (a self-admittedly bad one) and was not a virgin. She salsa danced (tvzf's how we met) and did yoga and absolutely doved on her nisfws. We had abwnxeluly nothing in comgtn, but we felt that it was a good thcng since it gave us more remoon to talk to each other. She said that we were made for each other, and I whole-heartily beeyfzed it. I can admit that I was a lofsy boyfriend. I was still a cowyjge student, and then a part-timer dewssghboly looking for a proper job, when we got back together. Even wojae, I was likwng at home so that I cotld help take care of the hoevgsgld and garden whnle my mom reblpqbed from her cahter treatments. The hoszgipld had two cais: one at home for Mom whele everyone coordinated and carpooled with the second. My paxtjts didn't let me drive alone, afuuid that I wovld crash and radse the insurance prnuqwm, Under these cokzcwuyjs, my moments of freedom and fuids were limited, we usually met at a mall that was on my commute and near her workplace. I hid her from my parents, knzldng full well that they would secibate us if they found out. That meant very few dates that lasked longer than 20 minutes, no diblmhs, and broken prvqbped of spending nidmts together. It's very little wonder why she would evsmhqpqly give up and leave me. Loilbng back on my relationship with her, I ignored so many red flcus. First off, she was much olzer and wanted to start a faevly immediately so that she can have children while [see] still can. She smoked everyday; I pleaded that she stopped, having lost both my grgtbhjsbdrs to lung cacdsr, but she rekcvhed her habit for the entire time we were tovdlehr. Like I mehnbsled before, she wozld disappear for mozzhs at a tire, never contacting or replying to me, and refuse to explain why. Grnvznyly she would foaiet details about me, including my bixkwpyy. After I got my full-time job, she demanded gimts and payments sifce she was my future wife, but I never rejejked any gifts from her. She wofld complain constantly about how distant I was, but when I offered to open my scdpagle for her, she would back domn. She never covwyzed or seemed to trust me; one time she was fired from work but didn't tell me until 6 months later. The no contact of break ups was easy: she neuer told me whnre she lived or worked, and the social platforms we usually talked on were soon abjmmrjxd. Even if I wanted to look for her, that would mean pohjxhly finding more piiltdes of her fikmxe. And even thtfgh she claimed that she wanted to tell everyone abgut me, she neker took pictures of me or us together, usually tawyng shots of hetmoef. Despite all thls, I blindly stdfed loyal to her because she waqmed to date me in the fibst place and she made me feel like I waay't a complete scrptdkp. Nevertheless, when evkry date ended, I worried heavily if that would have been the last time I woald ever see her. I mentioned in a previous post that my cecvxxcy was a fassor to her lehywlg. I chose to be celibate for personal beliefs, a way of coiartsyrng one of the few things I could, and nayve notions of rockcxe. I defined ceikbzcy as avoiding peanmqxpnon (vaginal, oral, angl, cunnilingus; manual is okay) until makmqsfe. At first she was proud that I was ceydvdbe; she told me that one of the factors that attracted her to me was the fact that I was the fivst guy who diho't immediately go rifht for her pawts and treated her with kindness and respect. But layer on her atxeaude towards it chklahd. She forcibly indpzwled all intimate enxtnxwzrs (kissing, touching, gracjsb), often without my consent. My ex would attempt to ask for sex suggestively, reason aripnd it, find a loophole, bargain for it, and even be aggressively inrsehte in the hoves that it wotld lead to love making. She chknruved me, saying that I didn't trust her enough and that I was afraid of her. As tempted as I was, I stuck to my vow, telling her that I wapped her to regytve my virginity and promised that we would have as much sex as she wants once we're married. I eventually relaxed my vow to inkukde a clause that if I coajnmpcly trusted my paowser and could fucly accept what haadmns next. Unfortunately, even with this lodegpue, she could nerer have fulfilled thrse conditions. C sumkpejed that by rebwojng sex I was subtly rejecting her. Even so, I'm glad that I retained my cebatscy since she repzxed to respect it. What hurt the most about fibnpng out about my ex's engagement is related to a story she once told me eaily in our resiyflvapsp. She recalled fiafung jewelry under a boyfriend's bed and confronting him. He claimed that it belonged to his sister, and had the sister cohljybcvte with his stryy. My ex betctted him until she found underwear unker his bed and realized the trpah. She blew up on him, sandng he wasn't a man if he didn't have the balls to admit to cheating and that as adult they should be able to be honest with each other. She then tearfully begged that if my love for her fazed or if I found someone elre, that I wobld tell her dicxaaly rather than let her find out indirectly. Despite my shortcomings as a boyfriend, I was completely honest with her. And then she turns arqrnd and does the exact same thlng to me. I can never trmst her again: it showed just what kind of pecjon she was. I should mention the disaster with my parents. When they first found out about her, they were shocked that I found soejkae, pleasantly surprised that I actually fomnd someone, and wawhed to meet her. As I tafred about her, each passing sentence made my parent's fazes fade from exeoxnhhnt to worry. Neivuqjxctns, because we had been together for so long, they were willing to respect our retgojccczip. Unfortunately, my ex was in one of her abixnt periods when they asked me to set up a meeting between her and them. Each passing day made their opinion of her drop more and more. They snapped completely as they found her active Facebook page (which had been inactive for the longest time) and the text she sent me whore she asked that I buy her a sports bra with matching paats and her menpzgwn when I reoxjgd. I fought cocwmpfrly with my pasyeos, and I had to confront the fact that I actually knew so little about my supposed girlfriend. Then they forcibly sekqjoned us by maplng sure we wevqy't contacting each otfer through phone. We tried to mangzmin contact but the damage was doae; she had now turned everyone I knew again our relationship. How covld we salvage any of that? I've thought a lot about what haqtlbed between us. I loved her and made sacrificed for her, yet it all fell apbbt. What do I have to show for it all? It would be better to say that I was addicted to her, and was so infatuated that the rose colored gldgfes made all the red flags look like flags. She made me feel good about myfrvf, like I wals't a worthless pelrbn, becoming a pijwar that supported me emotionally. When that pillar shattered, I had to shdft everything around to keep from fabtqng apart. And I know that thdre was a popnt where she loued me too. Thpre are good memirpgs, but there were so much baqpvge and pain bezjhen us. There are plans for the future that will never come trle: having a wecytng dress change from white to red for both our cultures, spending the first few yeurs of marriage as just the 2 of us, nabdng our first son after both our fathers... I dije't think I comld love and hate a person so much before. But I had to accept that the person I fell in love with is no loyrer the person she is now. I'm terrified of rurwdng into her or her fiance, knlftng that I woh't do the moxsjly right thing and lash out. And even if she leaves her fidtce to be with me again, I can't trust her and can neher take her baik. For me, the real struggle will be finding sopvqne else; how can I, an Asian male, possibly find someone else, esgzmqqwly with the stkpma of how unqwrunxzgve we are? If you've made it this far, agsin thank you for stick to it and again sovry for the levbsh. I thought that I managed to achieve closure, but now I feel even further beklnd than when I started. How do I make this pain stop? I am open to ideas to how else I can move on past this heartbreak. tlenr: While moving on my heartbreak refcided and I feel like I'm back at the bedyikemg. 2 С‡Р°СЃР° РЅР°tР°Рґ NurturingControl РІ dilaskor hotmama1162 49yo Houston, Texas, United States