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I'm in my late 40's, and my beautiful ex-fiance's betrayal has left me feeling worthless. This happened almost exactly a year ago. I even let her stay in my house after I found out, while she looked for and purchased another house. She wasn't exactly cerebral, but I loved her despite her emotional disconnect throughout our relationship. To make a long story short, we had the discussion a while back about what each of us would do if we were tempted by another person. She of course said that she would break up with me before pursuing another guy. (She did the opposite - sneaked around for months until I saw a text come through her phone). The worst part is that I took care of her the night before I found out. I went up to her place of work and picked her up to keep her from driving drunk. Had she driven, she would surely have crashed. I almost wish I would not have helped her, considering how little regard she had for me. She wantonly lied to my face. Smiled in face. Said countless "I love you"s. I now despise that phrase. Sometimes I think no human will ever live up to the meaning of that word, including myself.
Despite the positive affirmations by my mother and my peers, my confidence has gone south, and it feels like it's permanent. Dating isn't something I think about much at all. Solitude and sleeping seem to be all that I enjoy now. If it wasn’t for my parents and the horror it would create for them, my life would probably be over. I couldn't bear to tell my mother the circumstances of our breakup. It would have hurt her even more than me. My mom treated her like a daughter. I've never been very social and don't have real friends. Everyone seems to be so superficial and full of s**t that I would rather talk to my pets than try to make new friendships. So my mother is the only one I tell things. And I can't tell her about this. She has had enough in her life to make her heart heavy. This burden is mine.
Having been raised catholic, I, like others, slowly lost my faith. By the time I reached high school I was convinced of the void beyond death, and I knew that whatever true goodness I'd find in this life would be created by certain people. I find myself praying from time to time, but inside I know it's just to make the solitude less severe. If there is a god, I'm sure he's like most people - watching me speak, but not really hearing a word. I want so badly to feel hopeful and be the natural romantic that I am. The prognosis doesn't look good.
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