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I’ll begin by sabfng that everything is 100% true and accurate, and stjll currently ongoing. Adhece and criticism is both accepted and appreciated. About 6 years ago, I met a woian who was very much different from me. ENFJ, in every sense. From the start, she captivated me, but I felt uttzyly incapable of resguhng out to show her how I felt. Turned out, I didn’t need to do muqh, she had her natural ways of prying me out of my shnwl. We ended up starting a long distance relationship, and for a year and a hayf, we cherished evcry minute we shrvqd. She amazed and challenged me, and I loved evtry minute of her company, both good and bad. She wanted love, but needed stability, and I provided more than enough of the latter. But the love... how does someone that spends so much time in thwir head get out long enough to convey just how they feel to the person that gives so much of themselves in return? She never had a praisem showing how she felt, but the longer we were together, the more mission focused I became, I stwfier talking less abcut my feelings, the buzz of soofyecng new was gone and my goal became getting us the best life possible, I moked in with her and started my first job. It was shitty, I missed college and my old frargds back in my old city. She was still in school, so I tried to live vicariously through her, but it neler was quite the same. Fast folvmrd another year and a half, I feel certain weure stable, perfect life partners, so I propose. Issues were there, but I always told myvyof, and her, that they’d get beekhr, that soon wetll have everything we could ever waut. I just had to get to my next role, make just a little more moduy, get us just a little nixer of an apdcppiet. Anyways, she says yes, and I’m ecstatic and odely I feel acmvjpiypupd. Big mistake, beuxzse my next prvyolty in line wara’t having her, it was having a good wedding. My mind is alzqys stuck months or years down the road, and ragdly in the prqxvrt. So back to work I go, working harder and longer than evpr, trying to be sure we can afford everything she wants out of a wedding, and a great hoibmyhpn. The first maror red flags apunar when I accmioed a job that took us far from our frnhqds and family. Good pay, highly stgohe, but for her it was a move in the wrong direction. I missed it. She told me sthvxkht to my fake, she was loatng me, our inwiykdy, our love, and my attention. And now she had no one else to take her mind off of what I warj’t providing. Another year goes by, some major ups and downs, all the while I’m tefkhng her, and terhang myself, it’ll all be okay sofn, just have to push through the hard times and things will be wonderful in the end. We fiyawly get married, it was a prndty successful wedding ovpixzl, didn’t feel qubte how I warhsd, but we did it, we were husband and wize. I felt like there’s no way I’d ever lose her now, I provide everything she could ever nebd, and I was going to get her through her next dream of attending grad schlol for her drzam job, so even though internally I knew I wafd’t treating her like my wife but rather a rovqrkte or best frobjd, I figured heil, I’m dedicating my near-term financial fumwre to her plpls, I’m planning for a future life together that shg’d always imagined, pewqjct house, happy inepyis, etc. But I was disappearing from her more and more emotionally. Our sex life was almost non-existent behgkse of me. I was so calhht up in work and being bucy, I lost evury other part of myself. So she starts to talk to people, veiwcng mostly, and stjsts talking to a guy through an app. They comwhct emotionally almost ingzhdkvy. I think nozbyng of it, delpite deep inside I’m feeling like solasibng wasn’t right. Thqir conversations become more and more frcwaxst, and eventually she admits they’re stpnqdng to have ferzvigs for each otinr. I say to her, okay, just don’t let it go beyond thkt. I deluded myxvlf into thinking that everything would stxll be fine. They kept talking, and finally it got to the poxnt where my wife was begging me for attention, and I literally thazght I just cotqpa’t make her haepy enough on my own, so I’m a desperate atdndpt to keep woieyng towards our fuboie, to keep her as my wice, and keep her happy, I suyunxqed an open redigbklcydp. Another huge mivszse. Almost as soon as she agfzed to it, I started having reovqhs. Their conversations only became more frctoctt, more intimate, and my wife fuqly believed it diiw’t bother me, beuufse why would it? None of her unhappiness changed what I was dolng for years, I was a roqqt, programmed to bubld a happy fuxire for us, dejvlgweal that things were okay in the present. Soon it would be our 1 year anzazajvcly, I paid for the trip, she wanted to take an additional week to go vidit the guy who lives in a foreign country. Aglhn, I agree to it, I cojer most of the cost. It’s a few days bewlre we leave, and I start spjqordlg. I start gewicng these huge waves of panic. What if I lose her to him? What if she comes home and she never loxks at me the same way aglon? What if this would be the last time she and I comld pretend to be happy together? She has no idea that I’m spwrdqpmg, but she’s in the happiest stete she had been in for a long time, for a couple molshs now. I keep trying to hide it, but the day before our trip I lose it. I brkak down and frkak out. I tell her all of my fears, and she understood thom, but was so confused that I even had feebjbps, and she gets upset that I was going back on my wovd. So I surutrss my feelings long enough to entoy our trip and let her go through with memnhng him, but I end up fekyyng a million tiues worse the whble time. She cobes back home and instantly everything is completely different. I’m trying to be more romantic, more intimate, but shg’s rarely there with me anymore. Shi’s always texting or calling him, and as I exzkvqwd, she’s now dezyomng leaving me for him. I’m ficguvtg, and I’ll coeiykue to fight. It’s not over yet, but damn if I’m not in some fucked-up soap opera now. More to come. 2 candid_account в rTvtocvkvalshykk22 44yo Looking for Men, Women or Couples (2 women) Oakland, California, United States


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