The "end" of my relationship starts on Tuesday, October 21^st 2008.

 Carlos, my e(ex)boyfriend, and I have been having problems since we decided to move in together. I voiced my opinion about the fact that it was too soon to make it work properly – and, of course, he disagreed, and said that we could just try out to see if it worked; if it didn't we could try moving apart once again and continue our relationship that way. This feeling continued on even as I moved in, and I tried bringing it up every now and then, but it usually ended up in one of our many arguments.

 We argue a lot. Almost always over trivial stuff. Our sex life is... nonexistant, which makes me mad (but I won't tell him) and then I end up taking my frustration out on him... which causes more arguments. When asked about this – because those of you that know me, know that this isn't a really a problem caused by yours truly. When asked about it, his excuse will vary from time to time: I'm tired (yet he only usually works 4½ hours a day and does after or before), I don't feel attractive/confident enough anymore because I've gained weight and am no longer in the gym (understandable, but I don't think I've never made him feel any less desired),  we're not going to be having sex all the time (not all the time, but maybe, uh... every now and then?), and the latest – I don't feel comfortable telling you why I don't want to have sex (on break-up day.)

 I've been feeling ignored and unwanted for pretty much the whole time after the first week I moved here. I know it's not the case, but I've talked to him about it and his explanation is that, "You can't expect things to be the same as when we weren't living together." And I don't. I expected them to be better. Isn't that the reason people decide to move in together in the first place? To spend as much time together as you possibly can and, call me crazy here, be happier? He won't even sleep with me anymore because he claims he can't sleep at night. I go to sleep at around 11 and get up at 6 in the morning to get ready for ONE of my jobs. He goes to sleep almost always an hour or two before I wake up, just... watching tv or using the computer or playing games. It sucks, because I have my best sleep when he's right there next to me.

 Sometimes he'll make a sacrifice (his words) and go to bed early with me, which I absolutely love. I just wish it was more... often. But he'd never given me a good enough explanation until yesterday (break-up day.)

 Anyway, he's changed. Or, at least, I feel/think he has, and when I voice this to friends along with the fact that he's taken to running from 10 PM to 1 AM, their usual question, "Sounds bad. Sounds like he's seeing somebody else." After a while a hearing this, you start to wonder. So what's the best way of clearing up the air? I ask him. He gets so upset that he stops talking to me for about two days, and says how it hurts that after all this time Idon't trust and know him as well as he thought.

 This is pretty much the summary of what led me to do something that, right now, I regret more than anything I've ever done.

 So, on this day, Cesar (a gay coworker from the bank) sends me an inter-office e-mail asking if I ever plan on adding him on Facebook. After some retarded back and forth banter on how he can just as easily add me, we add each other. No harm there. His email is kind of odd, so I ask him about it and he says he'll tell me later. Later that night as I'm coming out of Best Buy (second job!), I check Facebook on my phone and read a message from him explaining the email. We keep on messaging each other and at the end he says he thinks I'm really cute. To which I reply, "I think you're cute, too," and let him know that I'm going to bed. I admit that I shouldn't have even responded in such a way, but I did...

 The next few days were pretty much like that. He asked me (always over messages, we never talked about any of this in person) if I had someone, to which I truthfully admitted I did, but was unsure as to how much longer.The thing is that, around this time, Carlos and I weren't really talking or seeing each other. There hadn't been a fight, we just... I don't know. It was as if we were strangers sharing the same space and that was it. So the attention I hadn't been getting (and missed so much)  from my then-boyfriend, I was getting from my 30-year-old coworker... and I liked it.

 A few days pass and Carlos and I finally have a talk about what was going on and how neither of us was happy with the way things were going lately. We both agreed that it's the fact that I was working so much and only came home to sleep basically. I know that's a huge factor in why things were becoming so stale, but the fact is that on just two part times we can't really live where we're living right now. This city is really expensive, but after running some numbers (by myself, because he finds doing that boring and unrealistic) I came to the conclussion that we could still be fine if I fixed my schedule at the bank so that I was working 15 hours less each week.

 Things start to slowly get better, but at the same time the flirting with Cesar doesn’t stop. In fact, it progresses from some innocent flirting to "There isn't a part of your body I won't run my tongue over," (on Sunday) flirting, which isn't good. We even ran into each other once at the mall, and talked for a little while about a concert and the VIP Suite everyone from the bank hung out in the night before, except me because I decided to give up mine to stay home with my boyfriend (and to avoid anything... Cesar, unlimited drinking... I trust myself, but just in case) and how much fun it was, and Halloween parties and even excercises. No flirting whatsoever. I even told Carlos about running into him, since at the time the flirting was still pretty innocent in my mind.

 Then Carlos and I go on a "date" for our monthaversary and spend that Saturday night together, just the two of us (which hasn't happened in a really long time) and even though I was kind of feeling weird, it was nice. I liked it. That weekend, more flirting went on, as well as some more patching things up with Carlos. Sunday night ended with Cesar sending me a picture of his bare torse to my e-mail. I didn't reply and went to bed.

 As I drifted off to dreamland, I decided to put a stop to Cesar and our e-flirting, since Carlos and I were getting back to a place where things were looking up, and I didn't need the attention anymore. That's the only thing I got out of my flirting with him – attention, because I never meant for it to go any further... and it wouldn't. I know myself and I know my limits. I know it never was going to reach that point. I was merely in it for the attention.

 I wake up on the 27^th, decided that I'm going to have a talk with Cesar and let him know we can be friends, but no more flirting. I shower and get dressed, and as I'm starting to get my shoes on, Carlos (who has been tinkering with my phone for a while) asks at me, with the most serious look I have ever seen on him, "What's this?" he shows me the picture of Cesar's torso. I admitted who it was and he flipped, "The one you had DINNER with?" It wasn't dinner. I was drinking a fuit shake, but whatever. He yelled at me and told me to just go to work that he didn’t want to see me and... I did.

 Y'know, it's funny just how retarded it is. It's just like in a movie, where the person realizes what s/he is doing is wrong, and decides that it’s not worth risking what they already have, and right before they get a chance to... it comes out.

 I felt really bad that morning at work, and I texted him to come see me so we could talk about. I was trying to cover it up and make it seems like it wasn't what he thought, because... it really wasn't. I had no intention of going through with anything. Ever. But he eventually agrees to come see me at noon. I take my lunch break an hour earlier so I can talk with him.

 Now, this is the part I'll continue to play over in my mind for quite a while.

 He comes in and joins me at the very last table of the Subway that's right across the bank. "I have only one question: Have you been flirting with him for a while?" I knew that if he was asking it was because he knew. How? He saw the messages. How? He knows the passwords to uh... everything. How? I gave them to him, because I didn't have anything to hide... But, even knowing this, I panicked and tried to denied it. As soon as I did, a tear rolled down his face, he calmly called me a liar and threw printouts of our conversations on the table. "That's it. You're a liar, and we're done," and then he leaves.

 I keep asking myself if I'd just owned up to it,,, maybe the outcome might’ve been different?

Of course I go after him, trying to stop him, to explain. I try to talk, he yells and argues, we’re in the middle of the street. He gets in his car and I follow, trying to talk some more, asking for just one more chance, crying. He's crying, too. "I had the chance to do this and I didn't, because I love you!" and "I never expected this from you!" It's just a messed up situation and after some more crying and him arguing and me begging and trying to convince he drives off, we're broken up, but he says that we can continue talking when I get to the apartment.

 Maybe there's hope.

 I'll continue this another day. There’s still a lot more to come.

 The thing that gets me about this is how, when we had that talk about the relationship... he was the one who made the first move that time. He rarely does this. He opened up, "I'm scared. I'm scared for our relationship," He showed a vulnerability that I've never seen from him before. "I miss you." It just kills me, how he's hurting and crying... and I'm the one who caused it.

Current Location: Apartment
Current Mood: crushed