When Love and Hate Collide

**** When love and hate collide ****

It was one day, in October 2017, when Ant got back in touch with me. It had been years since I had heard from him - my first love. I had loved him since I first laid eyes on him, when I was only 14 and he was 13. But now I was 41 and he was 40, and I had never got over him or forgot him all these years and I just tried to get on with my life without him. It was all I could do then. If I had known how to find him, maybe I would have. However, it was him who found me again.

To see his friend request on my Facebook was such a shock and it made my heart stop. I didn't need to even think of accepting it. I hit accept straight away. I was curious as to why, suddenly out of the blue, he was contacting me after all these lost years. But I wasn't going to let him know that I'd always loved him and never forgot him. That was to remain my secret. Or would it stay my secret. Would it remain my secret that he was, in fact, my first love, like I was his, or would I eventually confess? Only time would tell. But for now, I had no intention of revealing anything that would give my secret away.

We began talking and everything was really good. I won't deny that there was, or so I thought, harmless flirting. I was to find out that there had been a lot more to it within weeks. I was to find out something that I had not expected. What he didn't know was that I was already falling for him all over again. He'd invade my thoughts daily and my dreams. No matter what I happened to be doing, he was there, on my mind ‪24/7‬. As soon as I'd wake up in the mornings, I'd be checking my phone for any messages from him. More often than not, there would be.

Yet before he came back into my life, I was ok with just being by myself and not wanting a relationship with anyone. I was ok on my own, despite the crap my ex gave me. But he changed all of that. He changed everything and became the most important person in my life and I knew that I couldn't lose him again. I knew that if I did lose him, I'd never be the same again; I'd never love again. I'd be a shadow of who I was. Yes I had anxiety, but I could control it some of the time. I never thought what would happen, would actually happen. It would leave me completely broken and all the colour in the world would turn grey.

It was just a few weeks later when he came out and said it, that he had always thought about me and I was his first love, and he wanted me back. He asked me if I would consider taking him back. But I asked him how it would work, seeing as I was no longer in our hometown, that I was down south now and I'd never come back. The thought of a long distance relationship was a little scary, as a lot of trust would be involved. But he convinced me it would work. So, I said yes, I'd take him back, and I hoped, really hoped that it would work, that I'd be happier than I had been in such a long, long time.

As time went on, things seemed to be getting more serious and I was starting to think about moving back to our hometown, just to be near him. I did go back there a few times, but each time something happened that prevented us from being together. I still don't really know how or what stopped us being together those few times I went back to our hometown. But something happened, that it made me think we were cursed. The last time I made the trip to our hometown, my anxiety began to rise as soon as I got to the hotel I had booked and go through the roof, that I only stayed one night and I ended up basically running back down south, on the first available train the next morning. I know I was being silly, letting my anxiety take control like that. I was also devastated that yet again, he hadn't shown up when he said he would. But I was bat shit crazy about him and all I wanted was to be with him properly, like we said we both wanted, wanted the life we both said we had to have - us together. We had to find a way to make it happen. We had to. He had even asked me to have his baby.

Months passed and before I knew it, I had had him back for a year. Then one day, suddenly from nowhere, he blocked me on Facebook with no explanation and I still have no idea why. That triggered me to end up depressed and suffering with my anxiety worse. That, plus a number of other things. I got signed off work for almost 3 months. I drank too much, couldn't sleep at night, crying almost all the time and I even began to self harm. I admit I wasn't in a good place.

My oldest daughter was concerned and ended up messaging him on Facebook. I don't know how she managed it, but I know she told him I was self harming, but he messaged me, demanding to know why I was self harming. I bit his head off and got defensive about it, something I had never, ever done before, and I regretted it straight away. But eventually I did tell him why I was doing it.

One night, while I was having one of my bad moments, my phone went off, and there was a text from a number I didn't recognise. It was him with a new number. Not only was he texting me, but also messaging my daughter. They seemed to get on ok. She only knew about him cause I had broke down one night and told her everything. I had been hinting at it from earlier in the year, to kind of test her reaction and how she'd feel if I met someone new. So when I finally told her about him, it was a relief that she took it well. She just wanted me to be happy. She told him this and that he had her approval. He even went as far as to tell her how he felt about me, that he was unhappy being in our hometown on his own, without me. She told him to just come and get me. But he told her if he did, he'd kick off on her dad, my ex.

Slowly we got back on track and before long, it was as if we hadn't had that temporary break. But it wasn't to last. Something awful was lurking, something that would cost me the man I loved and in love with, and would leave me with a broken heart. Everything was going to be destroyed. I still don't understand why someone would target someone else just to cause them harm when they don't even know that person. More so go as far as to destroy their relationship, especially when it wasn't even advertised on social media. But someone did just that. To this day, I still don't know how that person even found out about him and I. But they did.

Just 4 days after my 43rd birthday, the anonymous text messages began. Someone had got hold of my mobile number and used the internet to send me a number of vile messages about him and I. I had 2 while I was at work, one on my way home and one once I was home, and having a few drinks with my daughter. I sent him screenshots of the messages that I had received and asked him about them. Deep down though, I knew it wasn't anything to do with him. I just knew, but my anxiety was telling me something different, fucking with my head. I texted a few times, telling him how much it had been getting to me, how it was causing me to have a massive anxiety attack. But he didn't reply; he didn't reply or call to reassure me that everything was fine with us and to just ignore the messages I had got.

‪Around 4am in the morning, I was woken up by my phone going off. It was him. But it wasn't what I needed to hear. Far from it. It was the total opposite. He was so fucking angry and I'd never seen that side of him before. He told me it was over cause of what had happened and my texting him about those messages and basically not trusting him. But I did trust him. It didn't seem to matter that I was having an anxiety attack.‬

The tears were streaming down my face, as I begged him not to do it and to please talk to me. He was too adamant that he didn't want to and he didn't want to talk to me again, that we were over. My heart felt like it had been ripped out and smashed into a zillion pieces. I'd lost him all cause of this mysterious stalker who had got hold of my number and texted me anonymously. He even went as far as to say that I was accusing him of fuck all, when in fact I hadn't done that. All I had done was ask him about what the messages were saying and told him of the anxiety attack it had been causing. He wouldn't listen or be reasoned with.

I finally fell back to sleep around half ‪5-6am‬ and woke again ‪around 8am‬. It was pretty clear to see I had been crying, as my face had the telltale signs of tear tracks down my face. I felt empty, I felt dead inside. I had removed and blocked him on social media. It wasn't what I wanted to do. But as he was so adamant just hours before of us being over, I felt it was the only thing I could do. The moment I hit the block option, the well of tears fell again.

Later in the day, I attempted to watch a film on Netflix, but all that did was make me think of him, certain scenes anyway. I picked up my phone and texted, "please don't leave me". My phone went off, and it was him, still really angry and couldn't be reasoned with. We were having our very first argument. It was making me feel sick to my stomach that this was happening. He still refused to talk to me on the phone. Nothing I said or did would make any difference whatsoever. I had lost him and I couldn't even see how we'd get past it and back to how we were before the day before. My anxiety was getting worse due to us fighting, and I was trying to stay calm, but failing. I didn't want to fight with him.

Everything was lost. I'd lost everything I really wanted. I was constantly on the verge of tears all the time. But I still wanted to move back to my hometown. But now, it wasn't cause of him, to be near him. I just felt that I'd be forever trapped in the coastal town I was living in. I didn't have anything here for me anymore, apart from work. But even there, at work, I was having problems and work had become unbearable. I shut people out and didn't want to talk to anyone or even mix with anyone outside of work. Not that I did all that often anyway. I felt isolated and lonely.

A few days went by, when I woke up ‪at 4.40am‬. I looked at my phone to check the time. I had my phone on "do not disturb" mode and silent. So to see that he had texted me an hour earlier, was something I had not been expecting to see. He asked me to give him one reason to stay with me. I didn't reply, not then anyway. I was still too upset over the argument we'd had. But I did give him a reply later on. I first texted back around 5 hours later, asking where did he want me to start as I'd said everything in a previous text. I kinda hoped for a response, that he had calmed down enough to want to talk and sort things out. But nothing. So, six and a half hours later, I texted again with not one reason, but a list of about 18 reasons. I got nothing back, no reply at all. None of my reasons seemed to be good enough. Among my reasons, I finally confessed my secret, that he was my first love and how I'd loved him and been in love with him since I was 14, from the very first day I saw him, that it had always been him and nobody else that I had ever truly loved or been in love with. So now he knew. Now he knew my secret. He finally knew the truth of how I'd always felt about him. My secret was now out.

A week went by, and I still wouldn't talk much to anyone. I didn't want to. I kept filling up and always close to breaking down. Then one night, just as I was about to go to sleep, my phone went off, a text. It was another number I didn't know. I read the text and it was him, saying it was his new number. That sparked just a very tiny bit of hope that he had come back to me. I struggled to get to sleep, due to him texting me when he did. So an hour later, I replied. Another text came in and another reply sent back to him.

Then I tried to sleep after switching my phone to silent and do not disturb. I woke ‪at 5am‬ and saw there were 2 more texts sent in the early hours. So I texted back, saying sorry, but I had my phone on silent. I checked my phone several times throughout the day, thinking there'd be something from him. But nothing. It would be another 10 days before I would find another text from him. He asked me for one reason why he should be with me. Again I sent the list of reasons I had already given him. But as I hadn't saved the number he was texting from, I asked who it was. The reply wasn't what I thought I'd get back. Instead the response was it was his mate, that he had used his phone to text me and he had asked his mate to ask me when I would be going back to our hometown. I couldn't really give an answer to that, as I didn't know if or when I'd be going back there, if I'd find a way to move back. A few texts were exchanged between us. Then nothing for another few days.

I texted the number I had, asking to tell him that if he wanted me, then he would have to come and get me. I got told no, he wouldn't do it. But that was just a poor reason for his refusal. I was trying to reason with him, albeit if it was via his mate. Then a text arrived, saying he was moving away and not coming back. Despite how heartbroken I was feeling, something deep down told me it wasn't true. But it seemed it really was over between us, and not on good terms. I had only had him back in my life for almost 17 months.

I knew it would take me forever to get over it, if ever. I lost the happy me people at work were used to. I had become a broken shadow of who I used to be. My anxiety had become much worse and I was more unhappy and sad than I had ever been. It was like the world had turned grey and cold. Nothing had any meaning anymore. I didn't even want to go to work, but I forced myself to. I even asked to switch to night shift, even though I didn't really want to do that, but I just wanted to get away from certain people at work who were adding to my misery.

My younger daughter had some contact with him, and she asked him if he still loved me and wanted me. He told her yes, but he needed time. My oldest daughter also tried to get him to talk via messenger, but he'd read her messages and ignore her. Eventually, he blocked her. My younger daughter thought that he had blocked her too as her messages were going unread on WhatsApp. Whatever contact had been there between him and my daughters was gone.

I began drinking again as a way to numb the pain and hurt. Every day I'd check my phone and I never saw his name or number flashing up. He was gone from my life this time. My world wouldn't be the same again. I felt a bit like my onscreen hero, Christian Grey, when Ana left him. I felt 50 shades of fucked up. But I was 50 shades of fucked up. Yet there really wasn't any surprise there, not with everything I had been through most of my life, so much abuse and betrayal of one kind or another.

I made some videos for him, to apologise for the fight, to tell him how much I loved and missed him, that I wanted him back. I had to post my videos on my 2nd YouTube account, under the name of Jenny Marie, as it would be the only way he'd see them. I know he had been sent the links to them by my oldest daughter before he blocked her. So I know he must have seen the videos. But that didn't work and make him come back to me. Yet I didn't know what more I could do. I'd given it all that I had, that was all I could do and it was killing me. I did unconditionally and irrevocably love him.

Then suddenly from nowhere, I had a message request on messenger. It was from a woman who I didn't know, who he didn't know. She admitted to being the one who had sent me those anonymous messages. She tried to apologise at first. But then she became a bit nasty to me. My daughters saw what she had been sending me, and my older daughter, who was only 19, messaged her. My daughter demanded to know what the fuck she had done to me. But all my daughter got was sarcasm from her. She still gave me crap and in the end, I blocked her from contacting me. I really didn't understand why this woman would want to target me and destroy my life and relationship with him. She had tried once before and he and I got through it and didn't let her break us. Who the hell was she? Neither he or I knew her.

I took a screen recording of what had been said, and sent it to him through email, as that's all I had now. I hoped it would do some good, if he saw evidence of who had been behind those awful messages 4 days after my birthday. It had now been 1 month since we split up, and I still wasn't coping with it at all. I wanted him back. That empty feeling I had had when we first split up, was still there.

Nothing had any meaning still. Life was still meaningless to me, and remained grey and cold, despite the sun shining. I still cried during the day when I was off work and at night. All I wanted was him and only him. I felt that deep down, he too, was feeling the same. But that was something I just didn't know for sure. Would he ever come back to me? Would we ever make up and go back to how we used to be? I still checked my phone for anything from him, but it stayed silent and there was never anything from him. I resisted texting the other number I had, that was supposedly his mate's.

The wall I once had around myself, that he had knocked down 17 months ago, was back up around me. I didn't want anyone getting close now and I hated being touched. The only person I wanted was him and only him. His touch would be the only one I would be able to bear, that would make me feel safe if and when an anxiety attack would happen, it would be the only thing that would be able to calm me and stop the anxiety attack in it's tracks. But I would never have it.

What a curious thing time can be, how it moves slowly when you're hurting. Time goes so fast when you're having a blast. But time for me seemed to stand still. It was like I was in a living nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. This wasn't what I wanted. I began to think I'd never be happy, as when I even started to be happy, something always fucked it up for me. I felt I was just destined to be alone for the rest of my life. What was the point of even trying, when I knew that heartache would end up striking time and time again. I would be better off on my own if I couldn't be with him. Without him, I was nothing.

Epilogue:

I still check my phone, looking for him in my missed calls and text messages. But it's always the same, nothing there. But I have a gut instinct that he will be back and we will overcome this and finally be together. I still hope and dream of it. But how long should I wait for him to come back to me? Both of us know that we're meant for each other, that we're supposed to be together. Yet he's letting that Irish side of himself, block how he feels about me, us. Feelings just don't change like that and overnight. They're always still there, just hiding underneath the surface, waiting their moment to burst out again, and to make the world all bright, colourful and crystal clear, with no grey skies above.

That damn Irish stubbornness. I have it too, seeing as I have the Irish bloodline in me from my paternal nan's side of my family. I'm at a crossroad now and uncertain which way to go. I have little faith in myself to make the right decisions. The one thing I am sure of though, is I want to move back to my hometown and I do still want him more than anything. He said I wouldn't end up hurt again, he said I wouldn't end up with a broken heart. He said he wouldn't leave me. He promised that. But he left me hurting and with a broken heart.