Crushed

He applied for my spare room online a month before lockdown. I didn’t tell him I’d had a crush on him since I’d seen him at the school gates 3 years prior. 
He became my best friend and I couldn’t get enough. Never had I met someone who made me feel so treasured, who made me laugh til I cried every single day, nor someone who made me feel like I could take on the world. Breakfasts in bed. Flowers just because. I couldn’t wait for him to move in.

He came and it was a whirlwind. He was everything I wanted. But we suffered awful loss at the beginning of lockdown and within weeks the arguments started. Him hanging up on me, ignoring me for days, speaking to his ex constantly, telling me he wasn’t sure he loved me. The drinking started. Every single day.

I believed it when he called me a “fat b*itch” or a “stupid c*nt” even though he was only joking, right?

Month three, I found out I was pregnant. An accident. I was told he would “teach his son to cross the road to avoid the crazy lady if I were to keep the child,” and that he’d have “nothing to do with me.”

Days after the termination he booked for me, he stayed at another girls house, and then decided he’d never really loved me.

I was so broken.

But it’s been six months now. I’ve grown. I’m the most authentic version of myself I’ve ever been. I won’t be with a narcissist again. He was my wound-mate, and he taught me so many lessons about myself and about what I want from a partner. And I feel sorry for him. Because broken people can’t help but break people.