Day 3 of My 40 Day Fast: I Was Under a Love Spell for Years - Part 2

I woke up feeling weak. A result of the lack of hydration from all the hours I was sleeping. I sat up in bed and drank about two litres of water. I take my time doing this. I drink half a litre and wait until there’s room in my tummy then drink another half litre. I do this until I feel better, usually after two litres of water, and then I start my day.

Water helps to alleviate hunger, which so far has not been overwhelming. It nudges me here and there. I’m able to concentrate on writing and I've been posting daily since starting the fast. I don’t have this kind of focus otherwise. It would normally takes days or weeks to write, edit, and publish a post. I believe that’s one of the reasons I’m being guided to be public with this fast. To train me to write under any circumstance. Because, spells.

You can read about why I’m fasting by clicking on the story below.

This post is a continuation of yesterday’s post, which you can read by clicking on the story below.

When we began dating I was two years into college working towards a journalism degree. After graduation I could not find a job, and I tried hard for years. I sent resumes to every job posting, and I didn’t receive so much as a call back.

I persevered and landed an internship at a national publishing house. The editors and I got along well. They published my work in the pages of their magazines, and trusted me to work autonomously.

Excited, I told him my internship was going good, and the editors were happy with my work. I was hopeful they would ask me to stay when the internship ended.

Out of nowhere the vibe in the office changed. The editors weren’t as friendly with me as they had been. They became annoyed over small things. One morning I was in the office at 8:30 a.m., the internship started at 9 a.m., and I went into the kitchen for a cup of tea. When I got back to my desk one of the editors was waiting for me. She was mad because I wasn’t there and told me I was late. I said I always started at that time and that I was told to start at 9 a.m. She remarked that the other intern was at her desk at 8:30 a.m., and asked why I wasn’t. I apologized and from then on I was at my desk at 8:30 a.m.

Projects that had once been handed to me were now being handed to the other intern. They found it a nuisance if I went into the kitchen for anything, and so I began bringing all my food, snacks, and beverages from home. The energy flipped from positive to negative quick, and I had no idea why. Needless to say, I was not asked to stay after the internship ended.

Over the course of our relationship he would say and imply that maybe I couldn’t find a journalism job because I’m not a good writer. I thought he was an asshole for not being supportive, but some part of me wondered if he was right. His words had their intended effect. They cast doubts in me. That’s the power of words. They plant seeds in your mind where they can take root and grow.

Anything I did to better myself he would twist around and make it about him. I have been keeping fit since high school. After I graduated college I went back to the gym regularly. He is someone who never worked out, and he would make remarks that I was making him look bad. I told him nobody views me going to the gym in that way, and continued to go to the gym. But going to the gym became difficult. I grew tired and even though I was seeing results my motivation dissipated. It got to the point where I was really pushing myself to go, and didn’t understand why it was so hard for me. Why was I unable reach that level of motivation that everyone else always seemed to arrive at?

He must have grown bothered that I was only with him because I was under a spell. He began paying attention to other girls. Perhaps to see if he could actually get a girl? There were nights when we’d hang out and he’d barely talk to me because he was too busy chatting up another female. This became frequent, whether they were my friend, his buddy’s girlfriend, girls we were hanging out with, or strangers at bars and parties. When we were eating at a restaurant, I’d grow tense if there was a pretty young girl there because he would eventually make eyes with her for the rest of the evening.

I was in love with him, or so I thought, and so watching this made me sick to my stomach. It made me paranoid. It made me afraid he would cheat. It made me insecure. And when I would say anything about it he would make me feel like I was crazy and overreacting.

I realize now having been on a spiritual journey and working on myself that I had an avoidant nature. I didn’t like confrontation with him. I didn’t like fighting with him. I would cry in secret. I kept my feelings inside. But when you do that, feelings slowly eat away at you. One night I was so deep in my emotions that I reached out to God and pleaded for help to get away from him, because for some reason I wasn’t able to do it.

Eventually the feelings went away. I knew he could sense the emotional distance. I no longer wanted to be intimate with him. We fought and argued.

I didn’t want to admit to myself that my feelings had changed. The thought of leaving made me feel so guilty. He had never cheated, or been physically abusive. And I was in delusion about any emotional abuse or toxic behaviour. I felt I was in the wrong for wanting to leave.

He never told me he loved me. For six years. I left him and we were apart for almost a year. I moved to Australia because I’d always wanted to do a working holiday overseas. While there I landed a coveted internship at a national fashion and beauty magazine. Him and I still kept in touch. He wouldn’t let me go, but he wouldn’t give me what I wanted either. I can’t figure out why I lost motivation for that internship, but I did and left.

I got back together with him, and not because I still had feelings for him. I convinced myself that I could love him again if the relationship was better.

In reality, I went back because he was familiar. The relationship was familiar, and it wasn't all bad. We had a lot of good times. It was all I had ever known. And while I was excited about starting a new life, he was always there to remind me of my old life. I chose familiarity and stuck it out for another year and half.

Most of that time was spent travelling together. When we returned home and settled in, I learned that no amount of words can make you hang onto something when your heart is no longer in it. The mind will convince you to hang on because it’s the easier choice, until eventually hanging on becomes the hard choice.

He’s big mad because I left 13 years ago, and has been obsessed with making my life hell since.