I grew up in a big family so I did a lot of parenting without my consent and never had that romantic veneer about parenthood that some people do.

I just walked my dogs through a shopping district and stopped at a store that gives out puppy treats.

There were two siblings screaming and fighting. I felt bad for the parents, but relieved for myself.

Man, I had the complete opposite experience. I had a nervous breakdown, fought like hell to make it work, caught her cheating over and over again, lost my mind completely.

Then, when I couldn’t take anymore and had spent a night out looking for her when she failed to get back home after a concert, only for her to show up the next afternoon with a hickey on her neck, I decided enough was enough.

I went out with a girl who had been asking me out for a while, fell in love, and moved on.

She lost her damn mind and tried to get me to come back, but it was too late. She ended up committed to a hospital, then after a fight on her end to fix things she ended up with the last guy she cheated with and then died from cancer a few years later.

Fortunately he turned out to be a great guy and took care of her through it all.

It’s crazy how fast everything has gone since then. I’ve been with the girl I mentioned above for nearly a decade, we have children, and still have passion.

I felt like I had spent a thousand years with my ex. If started when I was around 18 and ended when I was around 32. We lived together for 10 years.

This last decade has gone by in a minute, and I can’t believe I will have lived with my wife for longer than I ever lived with anyone just around the corner.

I believe that I am better prepared to deal with such chaos now, but I hope I never have to again.

Man, I could write a book on the chaos that was my ex.

The first chapter would open up with the story about us just being very close friends, and her telling me that when she turned 18 she’d move in with me. Well, the day came and she did just that, packed her bags and showed up to my place in the middle of the night.

About 4 days later I got a call at work, “If you don’t bring my daughter home tonight, you will have hell to pay.”

“Oh yeah!?” I replied. “Well, she’s 18 now and she doesn’t have to be your fucking prisoner anymore, bitch! Have a good life!” click

Phone rings again, “Listen! I don’t know what my goddamn headache of a daughter has told you, but she just turned 17. My advice to you would be to call someone to come take your shift and get in your ugly little car, and bring my daughter home now or rot in jail!”

Uh oh. I did just that. She cried all the way home. Her mom told me if she ever seen my car in her driveway again, I’d go to jail. I had the apology letter my ex wrote me for years, but she burned the box of letters when we split. It went something like, “I’m really sorry I lied to you. I thought you were awesome when we met and I thought you wouldn’t talk to me if you had known my actual age. Time went by and it became more embarrassing and harder to deal with. I didn’t think my mom cared if I left. I didn’t think she’d even try to get me to come back home. I’m never there, and she never cares.”

That should have been it, but one year later she showed up with her bags again. We lived together as friends for months, slept in the same queen size bed under our own blankets. One night we moved on each other and that was all she wrote.

Man, that isn’t even the craziest story with her haha. But it was always something like that. She lied about EVERYTHING. I believed her father was a lawyer for the first 5 years of our relationship. Turns out he was a mechanic. He’s actually been a meme for the last few years, but I don’t want to dox myself. You have definitely seen the meme, I can say that much. He became a meme for something really, really dumb too.

All the years I was with her, I didn’t meet him until her funeral. I feel guilty, but I said that out loud when I shook is hand. “It’s crazy that your granddaughter is 13 and we’re meeting you for the first time at her mom’s funeral.” You could tell it hurt him, and I still lose sleep over that because I wouldn’t want someone to say something like that to my father and I doubt he’d even be at my funeral.

Sorry for the book. I’ll stop now.

I've had my heart broken enough times too, but at the end of the day, I've just found I enjoy my freedom more than I enjoy being with someone. It's that simple.