It's really over

I met Trevor at the mall near his house. I wasn't sure why he picked there, in a specific spot away from much of the mall traffic. I took along my friend Deb (a former FBI agent). His car wasn't in the parking lot, but as I checked in the rearview to make sure my makeup was okay, he appeared next to his car.

 I gave him his things and asked for a hug. He said no.I asked him if he wanted my engagement ring back. He said yes.I gave it to him. He said that I have made his life a living hell for the past year, and that he's been nothing but stressed out. He said that he never wants to see or hear from me again.

And I said that I didn't cheat on him, that I was sorry that I hurt him, but that he hurt me to. At that point, he looked away. And that I loved him, and missed him. Finally, I said that no matter what, no matter when, I would be here for him, no matter what he's done.

His response: "good luck with the teaching thing."

You can take this at face value, but he wasn't the same. Everything was different. His eyes were very glassy, and he was a lot more aggressive than I've ever seen him. I thought he was high on pot or drunk. I was close to him though. I smelt no pot or alcohol on his breath. I suspect he's doing other, harder drugs-- coke, meth, or heroin. His mom sells coke; I have no doubt he has access to a ready supply. His sister confirms this.



I got back in my car, and even though I was ready to cry and puke from the stress of it all, I drove away. I wanted to look strong. I just drove into the next shopping plaza, got out, puked and had Deb drive home.

Deb said he sounded like her 11 year old son after she punishes him and he tells her that he hates her and that she is the worst mommy ever. And that if he really was over it, as he claims, that he wouldn't want to emotionally hurt me every chance he got.

So...

I can't fix him. I can't save him from whatever demons are tormenting him, be it depression, drugs, whatever. I didn't even bother arguing with him about me treating him liike crap. There's no point. That's obviously what he's convinced himself (or his mom has convinced him to think--I wouldn't doubt that), and there is no changing it. It hurts that he doesn't remember everything I've done for him. Apparently, it wasn't good enough.

How do I feel now? Upset, but strangely free. I love him, I still miss him, but this is the life he has chosen. I want him to be happy, and even though his happiness is artifically produced, that's the choice he has made. 

Where do I go from here? Living my life, patching back the pieces of the broken heart he thrust at me last night. My friend Deb suggested that I continue the Dear Trevor letters, and work on turning it into a book. I think I'm going to. A year of letters to him starting from the initial breakup until now.

What do you all think?

Again, thank you to all my readers for being there through it all. I'm sorry that this story does not have a happy ending for him and I. But as a huge sign about my bed declares, "It's never too late to live happily ever after," and that's what I intend to do.