In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: „An Extreme Tale.“

I am just now starting to crawl out under the the sharpedged rubble of my shining house of cards.

Since I can remember I dreamed about finding somebody, who really loves me. That doesn’t mean, that I was a wallflower. No, I had tons of fun and friends but there was allways a deep longing for someone who „really“ loves „me“, like I am. Before this somebody was sometimes supposed to be a prince on a white horse with a nice shoe for me, better a pair, or a knight in shiny armor.

But with the years I found out, that I am pretty much my own hero and can transact, what I want, even if it costs me dearly.Yes, I can.

In autum 2013 I thought, that I really fulfilled all I ever dreamed of, in a slightly different way but nonetheless and in the real world. My office was huge and pretty successful with my partners, I met a guy who really spoiled and seemed to worship me more than I ever awaited. Wow! I was so happy!

When I found myself crying, feeling totally numb, I wondered, what was going on. Wasn’t I here? Didn’t I work and struggle for that for years? Living with my partner in a nice flat and working successfully.

First I had to decide that I had to quitt my partnership in the office. Yes, everything looked nobel from the outside, but my partners bullied me but wanted me to pay them to much money nevertheless. I could not afford it to go on, paying all my time, power and money for a project, where I had no support a all. So I finally quitt in April 2014.

But I could not put it behind me quite so fast, I felt so knocked out like I carried a fifty tons mountain on my back. When I should had worked, I sat on the sofa shedding tears or playing solitaire. It was nearly impossible for me to go on working.

That was when my partner started to loose confidance in me. I often did not understand the reason for the fights but they were so tought, that I just could not bear them anymore. My partner went on trips with his friends, cancelled our trips, told me that he didn’t find me attractive anymore, that he lost his love and that I am an economical catastrophe, which he could not help. Least he wanted me to move out. So I did in October 2014 in part and in January 2015 for good.

Where this will lead to? I don’t know. I managed to find help besides my loving friends and family. I am afraid, that I do have to restart my life in the utterly old age of 47. But what’s the alternative? So, I take a break and try to find my steps toward someone, who really could and should love me: MYSELF.