I need to remember that although he ultimately broke up with me after trying to push keeping both of us, and she refused to share, I am the one who initially broke up with him because I knew he would be better off and because I was tired of only a once a month thing, knew I could not do more, knew he was not going to do more, knew he was growing closer to people down there, mostly her. I knew, I could sense it even though he kept trying to set her up with other people. I knew when he stayed at her place even though I didn’t know at the time that they kissed. I need to be grateful that I sensed that and broke up first instead of being dragged through a charade for who knows how long before he would have done it himself. I am not a victim. I chose this myself. And the thing is I made the choice I didn’t really want to make. I’m not living the life I want to live. But I am living the life that I made for myself due the choices that I made in the past. So I can’t be a part of that life and he can’t be a part of this life. It’s hard to know if I regret or am grateful for the last eight and a half years. I’m grateful for the experiences and feelings I had with him but I also regret the fact that I know what’s on the other side, what could be and what I can’t have.