I’m heartbroken.

I feel sad, angry, hurt, stupid, and completely devastated.

I had so much hope for my relationship. Y treated me better than any man has treated me before. He was in a word: AMAZING. I was (am) head over heels in love with him, and I was CERTAIN that he was “the one”.

I felt how everyone says you do when you meet the one. You “just know” they say. I knew. I really thought I knew.

And now I don’t know at all.

One day our relationship was phenomenal, and then he just started acting a little distant. We were fine when we were together or when we were communicating but I felt like he was pulling away a bit during the in-between times. I asked him if we were okay, and he swore that we were. But then he just kept acting more and more distant. Less time between texts (we were never the type to talk 24/7 but we always talked at least once a day), and he was avoiding making plans with me. I knew in my gut that something was off, but he swore he was just stressed out.

And then one day he didn’t reply to my text at all. And then the next day he didn’t return my phone call. And for two weeks after that I didn’t hear from him.

I was confused and upset, but I had faith that he would come back to me once he’d gotten a few things in his life straightened out. I remained hopeful because I had so much confidence in what we had. I couldn’t believe that we were over, without any cause or explanation. It just didn’t fit.

And then on Thursday, after two weeks and one day of not speaking to him, his best friend’s fiancé texted me to tell me they’d gotten married (eloped, I think) and they were moving to a new house that day, close to where I live… and as happy for them as I was, I couldn’t help my heart from sinking. I don’t know what it was about that news in particular that got me down. The fact that Y hadn’t told me? The fact that I wasn’t there with him? The fact that he was now going to be living with two male roommates and I knew that wasn’t going to be conducive to our relationship? I can’t pinpoint exactly what it was… but that brought everything to a head for me.

Later that day, I declared myself officially single again. I thought maybe in time he would still come back, but I couldn’t wait around any longer. Even just two more weeks would have been an eternity.

I was handling it well. Keeping busy, my emotions were staying balanced. I had my moments of sadness but for the most part I powered through it.

I created a new Plenty of Fish profile and found some boys to flirt with. I went out with friends. I kept distracted.

And then this morning I was browsing profiles on Plenty of Fish… and there was his picture. A recent photo, I might add, on a new profile which includes the line “one thing I can say is that this love thing is BS” (whatever that means?).

And there it was. The proof in the pudding. We are over. My boyfriend is no longer my boyfriend… and I wonder for how long he knew that before I figured it out.

That knife in the chest feeling I thought I had successfully bypassed, hit me like a tonne of bricks. My anxiety levels sky-rocketed and my hands started to shake. I became instantly furious and devastated at the same time.

I sent a text, telling him I wanted to come and get my things (a text he’d ignored a few days ago) and then I proceeded to rip him a new asshole. If there’s one thing I know about Y, it’s that he can’t stand for anyone to hate him, so I damn well made sure he knew I did. I swore up and down and I congratulated him on successfully westernizing himself and turning into every other North American douchebag I’ve ever dated. I was pretty harsh about it. If there’s one thing that you should know about me, it’s that I can rip anyone to pieces with my words. I can be cruel, especially when I am hurt.

And wouldn’t you know? After two and a half weeks I got a Facebook email, telling me he’s out of the city but will text me tomorrow so I can come and get my things. And then, the bastard had the nerve to apologize for the “late reply”.

So provided he actually texts me tomorrow, I suppose I will have to go and see him one last time while I pick up my things. He will probably help me take it to my car and then bolt, or even have someone else bring it downstairs, but I must confess that I am hoping I can corner him into a conversation. At the very least, I deserve an explanation. I deserve to understand how the most amazing person I’ve ever met turned into such a jerk. Why the best relationship I’ve ever had went downhill so quickly.

If he can’t give me that then I suppose I’ll just have to find a way to deal with never knowing. That will be the hardest part.