Three years ago, I met my now-ex from Reddit. I never had anyone in my life I related to as much as I did with her. She made me feel like all the despair and loneliness I felt by being single for my whole life had finally "paid itself off," and that I didn't have to worry about being single and misunderstood anymore.
Naive as I was, I failed to understand that just because your partner has the same tastes in music, politics, artwork, and has a strikingly similar introverted demeanor and lifestyle as you, that it's still not enough to make a connection last, especially if you find yourself begging them for transparent communication, they don't respect your boundaries or general simple requests when they're in your home, deflect responsibility with passive aggressiveness, or lie to you about how much money they have as a way to avoid paying for things.
One of the last things my ex and I did was shop for a Christmas tree in early November. Neither of us had our own tree, and I wanted us to pick from the best selections possible. I honestly thought after consistently giving her selfless gestures, gifts and love notes that year, that asking to split the cost of a $200 tree was too much to ask for, especially when she told me months prior that she had $20,000 in her bank account. I hoped she'd see the value of putting in equal effort/contribution into a relationship if you value your partner and how often they go out of their way for you, but she ultimately didn't, and I was stonewalled every time for trying to have that kind of conversation.
I tried patching things up with her shortly after our breakup, thinking we could establish an understanding and get back together after some time apart, but she again chose to only hear and validate her own viewpoint, which killed me. I used to feel beyond personally insulted that after being with me, she chose to attach herself to a poor, fat and ugly slob with fucked up teeth, but I had to keep reminding myself that some people just need a void to be filled after a breakup, and have lower standards for themselves than they should.
All this time later, I still struggle blocking out a looming feeling of despair and failure whenever I see a Christmas tree, as if something's in the air and mocking the dreams I had when I was confidently sweethearted and overly selfless, thinking that's all it took for love to survive and flourish, when I had plans of marrying her in the gazebo downtown, remembering how often I used to call her my gazebo girl too.
Thankfully this Christmas is almost over anyway, but I needed to get all of this off my chest so I can hopefully start living with a clearer mind during the next holiday season, and in general. All I can hope for is that the next woman I'm with is sympathetic and understanding when I explain why I don't have a tree, and that it'll be the healing experience I'm hoping for when I do.