I ended things with Phil tonight. He has given me so much extra stress over the last few months; when I moved house and more recently when Katie’s had to have an operation and ended up in intensive care for a week and I realised that if he does it during the hardest points in my life, he’ll always do it. Although really, I know his behaviour was a convenient excuse for me to end something that I knew would never amount to much anyway. It’s been far easier for me to end things with a valid reason than for me to just tell him that I don’t love him.
This time, the third time I have ended things, I feel quite content that it’s over and that I won’t take him back when I feel sorry for him, because this time I feel relieved and as though a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. What I feel now though is a little lost. He filled a void and he did fulfil certain needs in me that no-one else in my life fills. He was a great cure for my loneliness and it was very nice to have someone that actually listened to me, although I often felt as though he was more of a counsellor than anything else, and I do feel that our ‘relationship’ if you can call it that, went a long way into healing me from Tom’s pain and for helping me see what a healthier relationship looks like, although this one turned out to be far less healthy than I first thought and not just because of Phil but because I just don’t seem to be able to get my shit together enough to have a healthy relationship right now.