Now, if you'd like to hear the rest of the story please continue to read...
In October of 2021 I saw her profile on tinder. I looked it over, I read it over...I sent it to friends. I was hesitant to swipe - my brain swirls now with the thoughts of "You should have known better then." But how could I? Tinder is a meaningless app, right? So, I did swipe right. Within literal minutes she was messaging me. It felt good. To be so quickly appreciated. We kicked it off so easily. We both loved Taylor Swift, we by some crazy serindipitous happentance had both commissioned a one of a kind drawing of Taylor from the exact same artist in Wichita. It felt like fate, like the stars had aligned. Maybe tinder wasn't so meaningless after all?
....Yet still I was hesitant to trust. Scared - as my past had taught me to be protective. Yet slowly, Danielle broke down those walls. She wrote me a letter once, telling me she'd build the wall with me. She told me she'd stand on the other side, helping lay the bricks if that's what I needed. She made me feel seen. She made me feel safe. She made me feel heard. It was nothing short of magic. And that's how the next few months went. Blissful. Magical. Full of love and laughter.
However, that facade was not able to be sustained. I broke up with Danielle in June of 2022.
Danielle's insecurities started taking over. She was co-dependent, half a person without me. She didn't just want me, she needed me. It was a heavy burden to carry on a good day, until eventually the weight pressed so insistently - I had to put it down. I wasn't allowed to be me. I felt suffocated in her presence. And so, I broke up with her. I felt confident in the decision at the time, strong even. I have a history of letting people and relationships go to far. I'm forgiving to a fault. I've played the doormat role far more times than I'd like to admit. I thought to myself - wow - you got out before you were destroyed. That was a first for me, I thought I had grown.
In that same month I broke up with Danielle, my best friend at the time also moved states. Not like the next state over - she moved to Florida. I've had enough friends move out of state to know what that meant. I lost the two most important people in my life in the matter of three weeks. I was devastated, depressed. I hated my job at the time. It was draining, toxic and abusive. I didn't feel I had many places to turn and so I didn't. I reclused. I read a countless number of books, I watched a countless number of movies and tv shows - to this day, that was the time in my life that I was more like the shell of a person than I have ever experienced. It was sad. It was lonely - and I wanted out. It was dark. It was heavy. Possibly even heavier than Danielle, so....I let her back in.
I missed her, I was still in love with her. I never wanted our relationship to end. I believed in the Danielle that I knew Danielle wanted to be. The tricky part was - she's a two sided coin. You never know what you're going to get. It's quite literally a coin toss from day to day, hour to hour, moment to moment. Yet, I still believed in the good that did and still does live within her. I gave it another chance. I told myself if I went back, I wasn't leaving....and so, long story short - we got married. Quickly, quietly and absolutely in a way that was very perfectly "us." Nothing else mattered. We didn't need a big wedding, we didn't need a party, we just needed each other. And honestly, it was absolutely beautiful. It was love in its purest form. No show for everyone else, no putting on a face. It was simple, easy.... and once again, it was nothing short of magic.
Within weeks of getting married Danielle was deployed to Kuwait, for most of the 2023. She would be gone 10 months of the first 12 months of our marriage. But I was not worried. I wasn't just all in, I was diving headfirst into the deep end in love with this woman. I felt proud to be married to her. I felt proud to support her and stay strong and love her through her deployment. Loyalty was no question for me....but it was for her. She let insecurities seep in. As soon as she got out of the country something shifted. She changed. The magic I knew was gone. Not only gone, but turned into a dark endless cloud of doubt, blame and disbelief. I tried to reassure her, I tried to prove myself, I tried and I tried and I tried and I fucking tried some more. But no matter my efforts, my genuine love and support - I was met with questions, accusations and distrust. I started to lose myself under the magnifying glass of her relentless stare. Her narratives soon consumed my mind....maybe I am what she says I am? Could I be capable of being the monster she so often accuses me of? Then in the next thought, I told myself NO! Your love is strong and pure. You are loyal and trustworthy...just stay strong and eventually, god please tell me eventually, she will see it too. But the questions and accusations persisted. I started not being able to keep up. The whiplash was harsh and fast, disorienting. And just when I thought I was safe, when there was nothing left she could pick apart or blame me for, another blow came. I'd go to dinner with my brother and that was unacceptable. My dog would sit on my lap during our facetime, and she'd get jealous he was taking attention away from the phone call. I would want to have lunch or dinner with a friend and holy fuck - that was definitely out of the question. And when she really ran out of things to complain about - it was my fingernails...they were too long. My house decor was not to her liking. There was even a time I was standing in my kitchen on a facetime, and she asked me why I was in my kitchen. I stood there, utterly dumbfounded - I quite literally could not even stand in my own house without something being questioned. For the record, I was dog sitting my nephew puppy, Oliver. The night before when we talked he was in the facetime too much and it made her upset. I was standing in the kitchen in attempt to please her, to keep the dog out of the frame. Riddle me this; when sitting is wrong, and standing is wrong, and everything is...wrong, what are you supposed to do? I started to lose hope.
This went on.....for far too long.
Until I started to actually lose it, I will 113% admit and own that. More days than not I felt absolutely insane. Stuck in the asylum created by my wife. Danielle started fights so much and so often, that I started fighting back. If that is what she wanted, or hell even needed, then fine. I will buck up and fight. I would like to take a moment to point out the fact that before I met Danielle - I could count on 1 hand how many times I had raised my voice at another human being in my whole entire life. Screaming and fighting is NOT me. And it's a me I hope I never meet again. But god damn, Danielle brought it out in me. I've lost count now, how many times I yelled at her. I hated myself. I hated how I treated her. I hated the things I said - but I was desperate. It got to a point that I didn't even feel like I was fighting against Danielle, it started to feel more like I was fighting for me. And fuck....if you knew the war I went through to find me, you'd understand why I fought so hard to keep it. And while I still hate how everything happened, I will never apologize for standing up for myself. Danielle can be a beautiful person, truly. However, any partner that threatens your existence, that makes you feel like a pile of fucking shit - just for being who you are, that is not a partner. And, that is precisely what I started to see. I tried to plead, to explain, to make it make sense to her. I recall telling her once that I didn't want a parent, I wanted a partner. But she just couldn’t get it. The sad thing is that a lifelong partner is what she wants the most in the world, yet it's the one thing she can't allow herself to have. Self-fulfilling prophecy as some would say. Borderline personality, some would say. Inexcusable and inexplainable childhood trauma could be a reason. Self-sabotage. Insecurity. Triggers. Projection. Blame. Rage. Sadness. Anger. The emotions are endless, and honestly not the point - because at the end of the day nothing, NOTHING, excuses physical abuse.
So yes, I cheated on my wife.
After months and months of being torn down, accused, constantly questioned, insistently controlled, stalked, harassed, manipulated and gaslighted - she finally broke me. I am not innocent in this story. I regret the better portion of trying so desperately to love this woman. To show her the safety and home that I know she has always longed for and wanted. I broke a vow. I will own that. I will process that. I will not lie or hide behind twisted truths, this is my story...and if I'm going to tell it, how cowardly would it be to only tell half of the truth.
In that, I refuse to allow the other half of my story to fade in obscurity, concealed by Danielle's web of deceit. My wife was absolutely abusive. Emotionally, mentally, and eventually physically. She is truly so gracefully artful in what she does, it would almost be awe inspiring if it wasn't so fucked up. She is so good in fact, that I almost started to believe her fabricated beliefs about me myself. How she'd take fractions of truth and twist them into a narrative that suited her victim mentality so eloquently, I almost felt insane to question it. I felt so small, so useless, so terrible. Still, in those moments, when Danielle would ask me what I wanted...my reply every time was simply to let me love you. Accept good, accept that I am here, accept that this is a safe place to not be so defensive and protective and accusatory. To not have to question every single fucking thing that I do. For fuck sake PLEASE just let me love you. But, that wasn't enough. Me being there wasn't enough. Me passing her many many deliberately planned tests was not enough. She never trusted me, because she's never trusted anything. I very very very sadly can say, I do not even think she can trust herself...I pity her for this. There is so much good locked up behind her brokenness. But when you are unwilling to look in the mirror - queue Taylor Swift - "I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror, it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero." And yet louder, "IT'S ME HI, I'M THE PROBLEM IT'S ME!!" I hope for Danielle's sake, one day she sees this. One day, she can look in the mirror and truly love the person staring back at her.
ANYWAY, she won, I suppose...she broke me – round of applause. I am resilient and mother fucking strong, yet her darkness ultimately overpowered me. Day after day, I carried the weight of her on my back like a burdensome rain cloud, desperately striving to validate myself. To prove to her that there are good people in this world, worthy of trust...only to realize that was a narrative I never had a chance of being granted in the first place. And so, she triumphed in her personal war. She molded me into the very monster she treated me as – relentless and unyielding. She believed I was the villain of her story, and so I became it.
End of part 1.
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