It was 3 weeks in and he turned to me and said “Will you be my girlfriend?” Caught off guard, I managed to nod my head. What unfamiliar territory I was in.
Although more than half a century old, he blossomed into a lovestruck teenager. With visits after work and dinners out, days spent at his home, a night at a concert, it was a whirlwind. He was never without a gift – a box of cigarettes, cards filled with romantic verse, a pink scatter cushion declaring ‘all you need is love’, a teddy bear, knick knacks, a handful of fridge magnets, a tiny pocketbook of inspiration, medicine when I got a cold and chocolate, lots and lots of chocolate. The fancy kind. The expensive kind.
Never in my life had I felt so treasured. I explained bipolar and he said “You won’t scare me off that easily!”. I was mildly hypomanic and we laughed a lot, stayed up late. Life was fresh and fabulous and electric. There were promises of I’ll never leave you, you’ll have to get a restraining order to keep me away from you. He held my hand over dinner. I love you, he said. I’ve never felt about anyone like I do about you, he said. He told me, you are my forever. Move in with me, I’ll sell my house and buy one close to your work, I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I love you. Will you marry me, he said.
I started freaking out inside. It was moving too quickly. Chaos. Overload. His high frequency of emotion. Lack of sleep. Disrupted routine. The laughing stopped and was replaced with depression. Withdraw, retreat, isolate. And that was when he dumped me.
In the beginning you did everything I thought I wanted, then things started to change and you stopped doing those things. When you are up you are awesome. It’s the down times I am not able to cope with. I don’t understand what you go through with bipolar and I thought I could deal with the changes but I can’t and thinking ahead it just became too much for me