My whole life, the #1 thing I wanted was a partner who loved me as I loved them. I couldn't be happy with anything else. I spent years being a miserable shut-in with no goals or interests, and finally, in 2019 I got a job that I actually enjoyed doing. I finally felt a purpose and had a community. Life has had its ups and downs since then, but it began declining again in late 2020 and came to a fever pitch recently. I'm now in a worse position than I ever have been.
I met a girl at said job last November. She approached me and that's exactly the type of person that I needed, because I felt too broken to be the one making the first move. She seemed to show interest and we ended up talking and hanging out regularly. I had never had this with anyone before. I discovered that she was recently released from prison for an offense that I wasn't sure about at the time, and later found out that it was for selling thousands of dollars of stolen merchandise to pawn shops for drug money. Before I knew this, I knew that she was recently out of prison with no connections, no car, and no money. Shortly after we started talking, she told me that she couldn't afford her phone bill and that her phone would be shut off in a few days until she got paid. With my desperation for connection with someone in mind, you can probably see where this is going. Some backstory first: I still lived at home at the time. I didn't pay for anything and basically just piled my entire paychecks for a whole two and a half years into my bank account, so I had a lot of money. I never had any goals or aspirations to use it, and I knew I wasn't ready to move out, so I placed the desire for connection above my own finances and everything snowballed from there.
I paid her phone bill. Paying her phone bill became buying her food. Buying her food became helping her pay rent so she wouldn't be homeless. Paying her rent became paying for phone repair because she dropped it in some liquid (like really, I knew I was being lied to, but I didn't care). Over time, the stories for why she needed money became more and more ridiculous. She went from a shitty apartment in the ghetto to living with her parents back to the shitty apartment to living with me to rehab back to now living with me again. And through it all, I paid for her way through life. I have spent over $30,000 in the past six months. Not all of it was her, but most of it was. And she doesn't even love me.
Shortly after the phone bill, I asked my friend at work about things. He was an older guy who had spent half his life in prison and took a liking to me. I always sought his advice and, being lonely up to this point (and not being an idiot, despite playing along with her lies), expressed my skepticism to him as she continued needing money for things. He revealed to me that she was on fentanyl and told me to stop giving her money. He said he wasn't going to tell me but now that he knew I was spending money on this girl, he knew he had to intervene. In spite of this knowledge, I kept playing alone, thinking perhaps it was all a big misunderstanding or perhaps she was on fentanyl but needed help or, and I think this is the truth deep down: I knew I was being used and she didn't have feelings for me, but I knew that if I stopped giving her money, I'd never find out and I would lose the only real connection I've ever had with someone and go back to my steady decline.
So things continued. She eventually lost the job, of course, and ended up getting into a fight with her roommate over something in which she lost part of her front tooth. I lived at home and didn't have my own place, so what did I do? Put her into a hotel for a week and looked for apartments. This was around Christmas time. I visited her and stayed with her every night when I got off work, bringing her food and whatever she needed. On Christmas, she went somewhere. She allegedly went with her family to see family, which I can believe, but it's impossible for me to separate fact from fiction with her. The day after, she went back to the hotel, and texted me saying there was apparently a mix-up and she was only booked for four night, even though I know I paid for a week. See, this is how smart I am: I got the first hotel for a night and booked it myself, and LET HER BOOK THE SECOND ONE HERSELF. I know what happened: she booked it for four nights and pocketed the other three nights' rent I gave her. Anyway, she told me it was okay and she would just sleep in the lobby. I was at work at the time, closing. Afterwards, I immediately rushed over to the hotel and what do you know, she's nowhere to be found. I asked the clerk about her and, of course, he can't reveal information about guests. I could tell he felt bad for me and I think he saw me the other nights I was there, so he did tell me as I was going out, "I can tell you that room has checked out."
I texted her saying that she either left or she lied to me. I already knew I was being used and would sometimes get so upset with her and myself that I'd send her a text about it, but she would only respond sporadically and sometimes not at all, saying she didn't get all of her messages because she has Metro and it sucks. I don't believe that, of course. She either ignored me or was high, or was sleeping for 16 hours straight on Suboxone. And I know she got those texts where I said I was hurt, because the next day, she blows up my phone, calling me literally 17 times in a row and texting to ask if I was okay. She didn't mention the texts and said she never got them. I know she did and only contacted me again because she didn't want to get off the gravy train if she needed it.
So where did she go? Well, she said she went back to her parents. And she did, as I later confirmed. She didn't stay there for long, though. She was supposedly there for weeks, but it later clicked in my head that she went back to that shithole apartment after just a few days because her parents kicked her out again, probably because she was getting high or couldn't follow rules. And funny story, since I like laughing at how stupid I am: she continued asking for money and her parents charged her rent. Then they wanted three months' rent in advance "for a discount." I'm like, really, your parents know you're out of prison with no car, no job, and no money, and they just charge you all that rent and don't ask questions? Ridiculous. Anyway, I found out she wasn't there anymore a few weeks later. I smoked some weed one night and was feeling risque, so I texted her saying I wanted to eat her out. She got back to me with interest and a couple of days later, she told me to come to the shitty apartment. It didn't click in my brain at first, but it did later: she left her parents and went back. I think I was blinded by sex and my love for her, but after leaving, it clicked. She said she made up with her friend and they let her in the back door so she and I would have some privacy while her and her boyfriend were at work. In reality, she went back after just a few days with her parents, continuing to get high off of my money, and playing with my feelings.
Through all of this, I was apartment hunting. Not just for her, but for myself. I was tired of being at home. I hated my life. I had all this money saved up that I could live in an apartment for two years without even having a job. Why not gamble? So, I eventually got one. Literally the same day I moved in, she calls me all panicked begging me to come get her and move her in with me because she got into a bad fight with her roommate again (surprise). I hesitantly went over there against the advice of the friend I mentioned earlier, knowing I could be getting set up to be robbed or killed. But I didn't want to take that chance. I couldn't leave her like that. So I drove over to a bad part of town in the middle of the night, where two violent people who are probably high on drugs were just beating on a girl who is also high on drugs and who has been lying to me all this time and could easily put me in a scenario where she can take all of my money. It worked out in the end. I picked her up and put all her shit in my car and drove her to my new apartment.
She lasted a week. She admitted to me that she was on drugs, but told me it wasn't fentanyl (I confronted her about it before), but she was abusing Suboxone. She sat around in that apartment sleeping all day, obviously miserable. She wouldn't talk to me and nothing I said to her could cheer her up. Finally, she told me she wanted to go to rehab because she was taking five strips of that shit a day, and she had a nightmare where she was in hell and felt like she was close to death.
So, after all this long-distance shit and only getting one week with her where she was high and sleeping and miserable all the time, she leaves again. And I'm stuck in this apartment by myself with thousands of dollars less in my bank account. Great. She couldn't talk to me for a couple of weeks in detox, and then she was in a facility for another month with no end in sight until just days before she was discharged. A lot happened during this time, and I won't go into it (I'm really only sharing like 10% of the story with you guys... it's honestly crazy), but she started to show genuine care for me and only asked for money for food and essentials, which she sent me receipts for. Things were looking up, but I missed her and wanted to spend time with her in person. Finally, she came back. I picked her up from the place and brought her home. Things were better. She was sober and we could actually talk about things.
But then she got a job, and she had outpatient classes, and she had no car. So what do I do? Buy her a car. She goes to said job overnight and then stays at her friend's house who works with her because she's tired, and I see her maybe a couple of hours per day. I continue to express my concerns to her, and recently, she came home and showed me a vape. I told her it was her life with disinterest at first, but later expressed my concern for her and told her she didn't need to be doing that shit, and I have to be stern with her because I care and don't want her to relapse. A lot of other things were adding to my stress (like I said, 10% of the story, and it's already too long, but I need to vent where other people can see), and hers, and we argued in the bathroom. She said, "well you took a hit of it, too," (she came in and showed me and told me to, and not being a nicotine user, it really wasn't a big deal to me and I was caught off-guard), "and you did cocaine while I was in rehab (which I confessed to her willingly and threw it down the toilet in shame)", and I told her, "yeah, but I'm not an addict." I didn't mean this in a negative way. I know how bad it sounds and I know it hurt her. I just meant I'm not in danger of relapsing and going back to fentanyl and I just wanted to keep her off that shit. This hurt her, but it wasn't what really set her off. What really set her off was me telling her that I vented to my friend at work (whom she hates for "talking shit" about her, even though he told me the truth out of concern for me), and she told me to get out. I refused and just didn't talk to her. I briefly talked with her before she went to work and asked her to give me a hug, which she reluctantly did. She later called me and everything seemed good. But then the next day (yesterday), she comes in all pissed off again and is acting extremely distant and now I'm afraid she hates me. I don't understand why.
I threw my money away and did everything for this girl, knowing she was using me, and yet I am still the villain. I feel like she is going to be what finally pushes me over the edge to end my life and I feel like she won't face any repercussions for that. I've recently had a change on my outlook on life and spirituality and karma, but now I'm slowly gravitating back to believing there's no such thing as karma. What did I do to deserve any of this? She's going to leave me with no money, and I'm going to hang myself in this apartment. Going from having over a year's average salary in my bank account and a job that could have led to upper management to being broke, alone, jobless, living with three bums who can't pay shit for rent, two of them former addicts, one a manipulator, one homeless guy, and a stripper, (told you I left a lot out) and I'm just too miserable to do anything to fix my life. I have nobody to turn to and threw my entire life away over this girl. And I still love her.
I'm sorry for the length of this. I don't know how many people will read it, but I'm just glad to get it off my chest. I don't know what I'm going to do. Right now she posts about how she doesn't trust anyone (me) and her mom's always right about people (also me, and the same mother who puts her daughter on the streets and takes her side on everything even knowing the only way she can survive is to use other people), and being friendly with her friend that I moved in here who didn't pay me shit for rent who SHE WANTED KICKED OUT AND NOW I'M THE VILLAIN AGAIN FOR DOING SO. She won't communicate with me and everyone tells me to just ditch her but I. Have. Nothing. Else.
I met a girl at said job last November. She approached me and that's exactly the type of person that I needed, because I felt too broken to be the one making the first move. She seemed to show interest and we ended up talking and hanging out regularly. I had never had this with anyone before. I discovered that she was recently released from prison for an offense that I wasn't sure about at the time, and later found out that it was for selling thousands of dollars of stolen merchandise to pawn shops for drug money. Before I knew this, I knew that she was recently out of prison with no connections, no car, and no money. Shortly after we started talking, she told me that she couldn't afford her phone bill and that her phone would be shut off in a few days until she got paid. With my desperation for connection with someone in mind, you can probably see where this is going. Some backstory first: I still lived at home at the time. I didn't pay for anything and basically just piled my entire paychecks for a whole two and a half years into my bank account, so I had a lot of money. I never had any goals or aspirations to use it, and I knew I wasn't ready to move out, so I placed the desire for connection above my own finances and everything snowballed from there.
I paid her phone bill. Paying her phone bill became buying her food. Buying her food became helping her pay rent so she wouldn't be homeless. Paying her rent became paying for phone repair because she dropped it in some liquid (like really, I knew I was being lied to, but I didn't care). Over time, the stories for why she needed money became more and more ridiculous. She went from a shitty apartment in the ghetto to living with her parents back to the shitty apartment to living with me to rehab back to now living with me again. And through it all, I paid for her way through life. I have spent over $30,000 in the past six months. Not all of it was her, but most of it was. And she doesn't even love me.
Shortly after the phone bill, I asked my friend at work about things. He was an older guy who had spent half his life in prison and took a liking to me. I always sought his advice and, being lonely up to this point (and not being an idiot, despite playing along with her lies), expressed my skepticism to him as she continued needing money for things. He revealed to me that she was on fentanyl and told me to stop giving her money. He said he wasn't going to tell me but now that he knew I was spending money on this girl, he knew he had to intervene. In spite of this knowledge, I kept playing alone, thinking perhaps it was all a big misunderstanding or perhaps she was on fentanyl but needed help or, and I think this is the truth deep down: I knew I was being used and she didn't have feelings for me, but I knew that if I stopped giving her money, I'd never find out and I would lose the only real connection I've ever had with someone and go back to my steady decline.
So things continued. She eventually lost the job, of course, and ended up getting into a fight with her roommate over something in which she lost part of her front tooth. I lived at home and didn't have my own place, so what did I do? Put her into a hotel for a week and looked for apartments. This was around Christmas time. I visited her and stayed with her every night when I got off work, bringing her food and whatever she needed. On Christmas, she went somewhere. She allegedly went with her family to see family, which I can believe, but it's impossible for me to separate fact from fiction with her. The day after, she went back to the hotel, and texted me saying there was apparently a mix-up and she was only booked for four night, even though I know I paid for a week. See, this is how smart I am: I got the first hotel for a night and booked it myself, and LET HER BOOK THE SECOND ONE HERSELF. I know what happened: she booked it for four nights and pocketed the other three nights' rent I gave her. Anyway, she told me it was okay and she would just sleep in the lobby. I was at work at the time, closing. Afterwards, I immediately rushed over to the hotel and what do you know, she's nowhere to be found. I asked the clerk about her and, of course, he can't reveal information about guests. I could tell he felt bad for me and I think he saw me the other nights I was there, so he did tell me as I was going out, "I can tell you that room has checked out."
I texted her saying that she either left or she lied to me. I already knew I was being used and would sometimes get so upset with her and myself that I'd send her a text about it, but she would only respond sporadically and sometimes not at all, saying she didn't get all of her messages because she has Metro and it sucks. I don't believe that, of course. She either ignored me or was high, or was sleeping for 16 hours straight on Suboxone. And I know she got those texts where I said I was hurt, because the next day, she blows up my phone, calling me literally 17 times in a row and texting to ask if I was okay. She didn't mention the texts and said she never got them. I know she did and only contacted me again because she didn't want to get off the gravy train if she needed it.
So where did she go? Well, she said she went back to her parents. And she did, as I later confirmed. She didn't stay there for long, though. She was supposedly there for weeks, but it later clicked in my head that she went back to that shithole apartment after just a few days because her parents kicked her out again, probably because she was getting high or couldn't follow rules. And funny story, since I like laughing at how stupid I am: she continued asking for money and her parents charged her rent. Then they wanted three months' rent in advance "for a discount." I'm like, really, your parents know you're out of prison with no car, no job, and no money, and they just charge you all that rent and don't ask questions? Ridiculous. Anyway, I found out she wasn't there anymore a few weeks later. I smoked some weed one night and was feeling risque, so I texted her saying I wanted to eat her out. She got back to me with interest and a couple of days later, she told me to come to the shitty apartment. It didn't click in my brain at first, but it did later: she left her parents and went back. I think I was blinded by sex and my love for her, but after leaving, it clicked. She said she made up with her friend and they let her in the back door so she and I would have some privacy while her and her boyfriend were at work. In reality, she went back after just a few days with her parents, continuing to get high off of my money, and playing with my feelings.
Through all of this, I was apartment hunting. Not just for her, but for myself. I was tired of being at home. I hated my life. I had all this money saved up that I could live in an apartment for two years without even having a job. Why not gamble? So, I eventually got one. Literally the same day I moved in, she calls me all panicked begging me to come get her and move her in with me because she got into a bad fight with her roommate again (surprise). I hesitantly went over there against the advice of the friend I mentioned earlier, knowing I could be getting set up to be robbed or killed. But I didn't want to take that chance. I couldn't leave her like that. So I drove over to a bad part of town in the middle of the night, where two violent people who are probably high on drugs were just beating on a girl who is also high on drugs and who has been lying to me all this time and could easily put me in a scenario where she can take all of my money. It worked out in the end. I picked her up and put all her shit in my car and drove her to my new apartment.
She lasted a week. She admitted to me that she was on drugs, but told me it wasn't fentanyl (I confronted her about it before), but she was abusing Suboxone. She sat around in that apartment sleeping all day, obviously miserable. She wouldn't talk to me and nothing I said to her could cheer her up. Finally, she told me she wanted to go to rehab because she was taking five strips of that shit a day, and she had a nightmare where she was in hell and felt like she was close to death.
So, after all this long-distance shit and only getting one week with her where she was high and sleeping and miserable all the time, she leaves again. And I'm stuck in this apartment by myself with thousands of dollars less in my bank account. Great. She couldn't talk to me for a couple of weeks in detox, and then she was in a facility for another month with no end in sight until just days before she was discharged. A lot happened during this time, and I won't go into it (I'm really only sharing like 10% of the story with you guys... it's honestly crazy), but she started to show genuine care for me and only asked for money for food and essentials, which she sent me receipts for. Things were looking up, but I missed her and wanted to spend time with her in person. Finally, she came back. I picked her up from the place and brought her home. Things were better. She was sober and we could actually talk about things.
But then she got a job, and she had outpatient classes, and she had no car. So what do I do? Buy her a car. She goes to said job overnight and then stays at her friend's house who works with her because she's tired, and I see her maybe a couple of hours per day. I continue to express my concerns to her, and recently, she came home and showed me a vape. I told her it was her life with disinterest at first, but later expressed my concern for her and told her she didn't need to be doing that shit, and I have to be stern with her because I care and don't want her to relapse. A lot of other things were adding to my stress (like I said, 10% of the story, and it's already too long, but I need to vent where other people can see), and hers, and we argued in the bathroom. She said, "well you took a hit of it, too," (she came in and showed me and told me to, and not being a nicotine user, it really wasn't a big deal to me and I was caught off-guard), "and you did cocaine while I was in rehab (which I confessed to her willingly and threw it down the toilet in shame)", and I told her, "yeah, but I'm not an addict." I didn't mean this in a negative way. I know how bad it sounds and I know it hurt her. I just meant I'm not in danger of relapsing and going back to fentanyl and I just wanted to keep her off that shit. This hurt her, but it wasn't what really set her off. What really set her off was me telling her that I vented to my friend at work (whom she hates for "talking shit" about her, even though he told me the truth out of concern for me), and she told me to get out. I refused and just didn't talk to her. I briefly talked with her before she went to work and asked her to give me a hug, which she reluctantly did. She later called me and everything seemed good. But then the next day (yesterday), she comes in all pissed off again and is acting extremely distant and now I'm afraid she hates me. I don't understand why.
I threw my money away and did everything for this girl, knowing she was using me, and yet I am still the villain. I feel like she is going to be what finally pushes me over the edge to end my life and I feel like she won't face any repercussions for that. I've recently had a change on my outlook on life and spirituality and karma, but now I'm slowly gravitating back to believing there's no such thing as karma. What did I do to deserve any of this? She's going to leave me with no money, and I'm going to hang myself in this apartment. Going from having over a year's average salary in my bank account and a job that could have led to upper management to being broke, alone, jobless, living with three bums who can't pay shit for rent, two of them former addicts, one a manipulator, one homeless guy, and a stripper, (told you I left a lot out) and I'm just too miserable to do anything to fix my life. I have nobody to turn to and threw my entire life away over this girl. And I still love her.
I'm sorry for the length of this. I don't know how many people will read it, but I'm just glad to get it off my chest. I don't know what I'm going to do. Right now she posts about how she doesn't trust anyone (me) and her mom's always right about people (also me, and the same mother who puts her daughter on the streets and takes her side on everything even knowing the only way she can survive is to use other people), and being friendly with her friend that I moved in here who didn't pay me shit for rent who SHE WANTED KICKED OUT AND NOW I'M THE VILLAIN AGAIN FOR DOING SO. She won't communicate with me and everyone tells me to just ditch her but I. Have. Nothing. Else.
