Jason moved 3 times during the course of our relationship.
The first move was from an apartment where he was living alone, to a house with friends. We had only been together for about a year at this point and I was spending all of my spare time at his place. I was working at a restaurant at the time so I had more free time than he did and in some ways I am generous to a fault, which meant I packed up his ENTIRE apartment. He had a brown set of sheets and when we moved the bed we discovered the dye in the fabric left a massive brown stain on the wall! I spent hours scrubbing that stupid fucking wall! The one product that finally worked was Windex! (Now I use it to clean everything lol) Then I scrubbed the ink stain out of his carpet, and the entire kitchen - which I don't think he had ever cleaned! But guess what he got his entire security deposit back!
The second move was to another house not far from the first, but it hadn't been rented for a while so it was a bit dirty. The week before he moved in I spent 3 days cleaning the house for him. I took a wet wash cloth to his bedroom walls, vacuumed every room, I even bought contact paper and applied it to every single cabinet shelf in the kitchen - after thoroughly cleaning inside and out of them! I assembled his bed frame and box spring (the box spring had to be taken apart to get it down the stairs at the other house) and set up his mattress and made the bed (a queen size) all on my own as a surprise for him!
The third move was up to New York City 2 years ago. Again I packed up 85% of his stuff and labeled and numbered every box. I used my moms SUV to drive him up to his new place so he could take important stuff with him instead of sending it with the movers. He moved in the middle of the summer and of course his new place had no AC! He had ordered a window unit that was waiting for us when we arrived but it was the wrong size and didn't fit in his window, so we spent the first 48hrs unpacking in sweltering heat! I'll never forget sitting on the floor of his empty apartment and crying, knowing how hard long distance was going to be. He looked me in the eye and promised me we would make it work. By the time I left a week later he was completely unpacked, I took him to Home Depot so he could get the correct window AC unit, and I took him to the grocery store.
Thats just a sampling of the countless things I did for him while we were together. Thinking back I kick myself when I realize how much more I did for him than he ever did for me. I just felt so lucky that he loved me and wanted to be with me, so I guess without being conscious of it I did everything I could so he wouldn't want to leave me. It sounds a little pathetic but I've struggled with self confidence in the past and knowing someone loved me was such an amazing feeling, one that I didn't want to loose.
The worst part is I'm still NOT ok! I keep trying to remind myself of how selfless I was for him and how by the end he was a self absorbed jack ass but I'm still not angry with him. I want so badly to be mad at him for what he did to me and the way he ended things but I still just want him to call and say he made a mistake and he wants me back!
It's been about a month now and I know it will eventually get better, but it's so hard to imagine ever feeling whole again. I still feel nauseous all the time and have no desire to do anything but go to work, come home, and sleep. When will it pass? When will I feel like life is worth it again? When will I finally just be angry with him instead of praying he will call and tell me he still loves me? When will my heart heal?
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