I Keep Hurting Him, And It Kills Me

I met my incredible boyfriend online while I was in a sexless, emotionally abusive marriage. I didn't mean to love him, but I couldn't stop myself. I planned to leave and go to him without telling anyone, just disappear one day to avoid the drama I knew would ensue. It didn't work out that way; my plans and my relationship were discovered, and an intervention of sorts was staged. I was weak, tired, broken and after years of emotional, mental and religious abuse, unable to fight off my family, husband and my own guilt. I let them cancel my plane ticket, and let my husband take me on a vacation to try to fix things. It failed miserably.
All I could think about was him. I was tormented by the thought of his pain, and never seeing him again, but I kept telling myself that he probably wasn't really in love with me anyway. Who could be? This pathetic piece of crap wasn't worthy of anyone's love; what could he possibly see in such a damaged woman? Nevertheless, I couldn't help it; after a few days of fighting it, wanting so much to do the "right" thing, I went back to my boyfriend and asked his forgiveness. He was so hurt by my betrayal, the pain of it was like a knife in my own heart.
The worst thing is, this happened twice more. I moved out into my own apartment, but because I have a son with my ex, I kept seeing him regularly. I was bombarded from all sides with condemnation, mostly of a religious nature, and continually felt that I was going to hell, that God hated me now, and lived in constant fear that there would be no redemption for what I was doing. Twice more, I broke his heart; this man, the love of my life, the one I truly wanted to be with. All I wanted was to make him happy, to bring love and joy and light to his dark, lonely life. Instead, I drove him further down with my uncertainty and fear, my constant wavering between the religion I had been raised from childhood to be subservient to and the love my heart had been desperately wanting.
I've settled things now. In my mind, there's no going back and I've made my choice. But I felt like this before, and then allowed myself to be swayed. My love knows this, and lives with the constant fear of losing me. I see it in his eyes every time I go away, I hear it in his voice when I'm gone too long. I remember clearly the tears, pain, and suffering I caused, and the guilt of hurting him is even worse than the guilt brought on by leaving my marriage and my religion behind.
To him, this one who has changed everything for me, I can no longer apologize because words mean nothing anymore. The words I spoke were true, but my mind was so unstable and uncertain that the truth kept changing. My heart was always the same, but I kept trying to kill it off and listen to my mind, to the voices of my parents, pastors, preachers, teachers and all the others who, over the years, had tried so hard to make me the submissive, meek, mild Christian girl I was supposed to be. To you, my love, I am so grateful. You've set me free in more ways than I can imagine.
I don't ever want to hurt him again. He's stood by me, forgiven me over and over, and nearly destroyed himself in the meantime. He's the only one that truly wanted me to be happy, regardless of the consequences to himself. This is real love; this is the love no one else gave me over the years. This is the love I am now ready to give to him. The love he deserves, without fear of betrayal, pain, loss. I hope I am strong enough now to give him this, because he is the reason I am strong at all.