I’m always the last girlfriend my ex-boyfriends have before they plunge right into marriage with another girl after a few months of dating. I’m convinced I’ve done all the hard work while the next girl waltzes in to scoop the prize and I’m so sick of it.
It started with my alcoholic ex.
I was with my ex-boyfriend for five years but he started developing a bad relationship with alcohol towards the end. He never knew his limits and would drink to the point of not remembering anything the next day. A true loose cannon, I would never know what he was going to do or say next but the clincher was when he left the grill on after passing out, potentially causing a fire as we slept. He was so drunk and out of it that he didn’t believe me even though he could clearly see the red-hot element burning away, so he stuck his head inside the oven and burned the back of his neck pretty bad. Enough was enough for me and I told him it was the drink or me. He chose the drink.
He married his next girlfriend and is now teetotal.
Obviously it wasn’t meant to be, but it’s so annoying that after years of telling him he had a problem and him not believing me, the next girl comes along and he believes her in what seems like an instant. It’s fine, he was a moron in many other ways. so I’ll take that as a lucky escape!
Next came the undateable doctor.
We had a fabulous first date, super romantic and we both got on so well. We kissed on his rooftop, he cooked a glorious meal, and we had three excellent more dates afterward. Then came the blow in the form of a text message. He said he really liked me but if he was being honest, he wasn’t ready to date so soon after coming out of a serious relationship. That’s cool—at least he was honest and wasn’t about to string me along. One month later, he was dating another girl and six months later, they were engaged! Seriously?! I’d be able to let that one go if I thought it was just a line and that he didn’t really like me at all, but he went to so much effort on our dates that I genuinely think he was telling the truth when he said he wasn’t ready. Clearly, his now-fiancee was just irresistible.
Let’s not forget about the lowlife dad I dated.
This was a serious error of judgment on my part but in my defense, I was on the rebound and he was super sexy. Pity about his personality. He was too immature, had no goals for the future, planned to have a baby with his girlfriend at 17—stupid through and through. But at the time, I somehow blocked all of this out despite warnings from friends. He ended up cheating on me, I forgave him, and a week later he dumped me. I cried too hard for too long over this idiot and lo and behold, he was engaged nine months after we broke up.
Finally, there was the unavailable bartender.
This guy was great, really fun and completely different to me, which was probably the attraction. It was his job that was the issue. He worked almost every night and I had classes every day so it was hard to find time together. He wanted to be a barman long-term and I still had a long way to go at university. We broke it off and not too long after, he started dating a friend of a friend. Within five months, he had a day job and they were living together.
It feels like I’m doing all the hard work, to be honest.
I’m the one trying to help him get past his toxic relationship with alcohol, the one trying to give someone else goals of their own, the one attempting to help him heal his broken heart. But in the end, they all seem to work out their issues with me so they are better boyfriends for the next girl.
It’s baggage I’ve carried through into other relationships.
It’s hard not to carry this feeling when it happens over and over again. It has made me settle for guys who I know aren’t quite right for me but I’ve tried not to voice the issues and it’s put me off breaking up with guys even when there’s a major reason I should. I just know it’ll happen again and the next girl will get the guy I always knew he could be.
It’s really starting to take a toll on my self-esteem.
It’s kind of all over the place really, on one hand, I worry I’m being too picky and on the other, I’m sad about the fact that maybe I’m just not good enough. The harsh reality of this is that I simply wasn’t enough for them to change but the next girl was. Maybe I need to change or maybe I need to date guys who aren’t such hard work. See, my head’s all over the place.
Thankfully, I’m now with a guy I love, warts and all.
And he loves me warts and all too—that is until he meets the girl after me. Just kidding… hope! Nobody is perfect and we both have things to work on to be better to each other. I don’t think that’s a bad thing—in fact, I think we should always be working on how to be more empathetic and kinder towards each other. Let’s just hope there is no girl after me with this one!
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