Mar. 18th, 2016 03:17 pm
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I broke up with my ex boyfriend again last night. This is far more common for me than breaking up once and never seeing them again. I think Ken is the only ex I've ever *not* at least fucked after breaking up.

Julian and I met on a random Sunday at #1 on Fifth. He was cute, and sweet, and our sex was phenomenal. He liked a lot of the same music, was an animal lover, and loved how much I loved animals and music. When one of my couch surfers nearly killed Mousey, he suggested we move him to his place. Like all my relationships, we had great chemistry, and were therefore officially boyfriends less than 2 months later. Unofficial boyfriends before that, of course.

I saw warning signs while we were still dating. He had an unfortunate mix of abandonment and control issues. He took shots of vodka in the morning before breakfast, sometimes instead of breakfast. I bought him a shotglass with his name on it. We had a volatile relationship, and things got physical once. He "started it," but I have 20+lbs on him, so I shouldn't have finished it. After that, most of our fights were him drunkenly screaming at me and apologizing the next day. He sometimes apologized without remembering any of the night before; it was habit. Friends stopped going out with us because the drunken fight was so predictable.

I tried to get counseling for us through the Center after our altercation, but he was only free on Fridays, and we were on a waitlist for 4 months without a peep. He'd eventually quit his job, which obviously made scheduling much easier. He went to Germany in late December, to see his dying Grandfather and stay for the funeral. While he was gone, he called me frequently, and often chastised me for not calling him. He was often drunk, and yelled at me for not being there, for vegan food causing deforestation, and a couple other things. I broke up with him the night he got back. I know, it was terrible timing, but I had a lot of things there, and it was my best shot for a clean break. He asked where my stuff was, started crying, and begged and begged and begged and begged me not to. I finally got out by asking for "a break" after an hour of telling him we were breaking up. He asked to see me every day during our "break."

That Thursday, we were supposed to work together. He no-showed but called me later, drunk at Mo's and shouting about a million things he wouldn't remember the next day. I changed my FB status that night to officially be Single again. He messaged me the next day, hundreds of times while I was at work, and showed up at my place in the evening, refusing to leave until I called the police.

For some people, that childhood lesson "please is a magic word" is taken too literally. Obviously, if you say please, and the answer is no, you just need to ask again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. Julian is at least the second such person I've met, and I don't even know how to go about researching it.

I thought it was important that Julian get counseling, so I continued to see him, so that he could qualify for therapy through me at The Center. I also let him use my car during the day, so he could run various job-searching errands and the like. This was probably a mistake, but such is the road to hell.

This past Sunday, my friend Bryan invited us to be Softball Cheerleaders, and then to a BBQ. About half-way through the BBQ, someone brought out a plate of coke. This past Tuesday, a friend invited us over to swim and hot-tub. Most of the guys ended up naked. Julian was into it at first, but ended up the drunkest I've ever seen him and shouted at me the whole way home. His side of the bed was soaked in the morning, though it didn't smell. He demanded I get him a new blanket, then just snatched the half I was using off of me.

That afternoon, he didn't pick me up from work. He's usually a little late, but this time he just never showed. I texted and called a few times, but an hour later I hadn't heard back, so I started walking home. It's 3.5 miles, so neither pleasant nor impossible. He called when I was almost home, apologized at first, but quickly switched to shouting how unfair it was that he needed to wake up early every day just so he could use my car while I was at work. Then he started shouting that I didn't tell him there was going to be coke/nudity at the parties. The fact that I didn't know these things was no excuse. He threatened not to give my car back. I told him I would report it stolen. He later showed up to my place, apparently high as a kite, and alternated sobbing and shouting. I told him to leave, offered him a ride, but only about 10 times before I said I'd drive him home and waited in my car. I came back in a few hours later to find him asleep. In the morning, he followed me out to my car, demanding to know how he was supposed to get home. I offered him a ride again. He wanted me to stay and talk, so I went to work. Hundreds of messages. But I do know what's good for me, and I've done what I could for you.

Looking back on all of this, I'm not sure how much distance we're going to need. I'd like him to be in my life, but he's been out of work for a few months, and already took out predatory loans to pay the last couple month's rent. I advised him earlier to move home with his mom. She lives in AR, which is not ideal, but he wouldn't have to worry about bills, and he's close with her. The distance might make our break up(s) easier on him, as well.


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