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The situation has gotten out of control. I’m wallowing in self-pity, having no motivation to do anything. Yesterday, I told her about my childhood. After we had a fight and, as usual, decided to end our relationship, I told her the story that I had discussed previously with nobody. We were attacking each other, saying all sorts of nasty things. At one moment, I lost control over my emotions, and the result was quite unexpected. I have no idea why I told her this story. To keep her? Doesn’t make any sense. But who am I to say? She was gonna leave the apartment because she was annoyed by my behavior. It was around midnight. She refused to tell me where she was supposed to go and why. I was calm, said a few things that made her mad; then she said she was gonna call her ex. She said she didn’t want to stay with me in one apartment. She said I was a piece of shit. I didn’t argue with that; instead I said I had no sense of “self-importance,” and “to prove” it, told her this bloody story. It had a profound effect on both of us. We instantly reached peace, and then I was talking till 3am, quite a bit of a psychotherapy.
In the morning, I left her with the thought that I’d never come back. I turned off the phone and tried to convince myself that this was the best moment to end all of that. However, after a while, I got on the internet, read her message (she worried about me turning off the phone and asked whether I was okay), and promised to come in an hour. Where is my strength?
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