Release.
I thought I was grieving the loss of my marriage.
I thought he and I were on the same page about being amicable and "family" (because friendship requires more effort than either of us had capacity to do).
I thought I would struggle to write our story because I believe in forgiveness and honoring a person's integrity and reputation by speaking kindly about them when they're not around.
I thought we could go for a hike, to lunch at our favorite restaurant, and have a nice day before I loaded up the very last of my things from his house.
I thought I'd have time to consider if there was anything more I needed from his house, just in case.
I thought we could still go to events together in the future.
I thought I could buy one of his properties from him under contract without issue because that's his other business, and I've watched him be so kind and helpful to others when it came to housing.
I thought he could be kind and helpful to me.
Damn.
I was wrong.
The moment I heard him making the joke he has always made about his ex-wife having "served over 20+ years in that prison," how it cost him a million dollars during his first divorce, but that he "got off easy" with this one because his sentencing was shorter at seven years and it was only going to cost him a "couple hundred thousand this time," reality came crashing down on me HARD.
If I except anything more from him, including things he'd already agreed to such as points for travel and custody of one piece of artwork "the parrot," then I would always be the butt-end of his jokes and there would be truth to it.
I immediately called off the house deal, I left everything behind at his house, and I told him, "I'm done with you," as I dropped him off at his house and drove back to my apartment crying most of the way home.
Since Saturday (it's now Monday), I've transferred all the points back and cancelled my trips, I've removed all of his social media from my access (except one that I can't seem to remove off insta), I've closed out all of my streaming services that I was paying for him to have access to over the past six months, I've cancelled all deliveries to the house that I paid for to "help" him out, I've ensured I've removed everything I manage and have been responsible for off my schedule (except a follow through on finishing the website over spring break), and I'm arranging to drop "the parrot" back to him.
I'm realigned with myself and my integrity.
Nothing I was given was worth the price I had to pay for it emotionally and mentally. Nothing. I did the calculations of what I saved him over the years in services I provided over the past seven and a half years: Private chef: $36K- $168K annually (depending on how much we ate out) including grocery shopping and cleaning. Daily maid services: $14K+ annually for standard daily cleaning including laundry services for bedding and towels. Live-in Personal Admin Assistant: $51K annually in Oregon Part-time Marketing Assistant: Approx. $25-35K annually Professional Listener: $40K+/- annually (A Professional Listener is someone who provides a safe, nonjudgmental space for others to talk and be heard. They actively listen, offer emotional support, and help people process their thoughts without giving advice or therapy.) Travel Companion: $37K +/- annually Travel Agent: $5-10K annually
It's not an exaggeration. These numbers are on the conservative side and none of it includes the additional pet care or handy-woman work I did without mention for him over the years, or the sweat-equity I put into both of his houses; and then some.
And, it's funny to me now, how much I resisted most of his requests for help but how slowly over the years I felt more obligated to do these things because I could never generate the kind of income he expected me to make- I just have a different view of money and didn't care in the same way he did. So, I started doing too much for him in order to feel worthy of his generosity and gifts. It was all my way of evening out the playing field. Unfortunately, I don't think he ever saw it that way.
I think he mostly thought I was using him.
I wasn't.
I was loving him.
I was giving all of myself to him.
The issue with that last statement is that one day I turned around and I was gone. Everything I liked about myself had been stripped away. I was sad and depressed. I was lonely and heartbroken with a man who didn't like me and certainly didn't love me (I know because he told me).
So, that's it.
I'm done with him.
And, now I start to truly grieve the loss.