The Bulgarian

I was heartbroken when I met The Bulgarian. I had just ended a short but torrid relationship with my first love, and that very day she had returned my things, so I hailed a cab and asked him to take me somewhere I could get a drink. I ended up drinking alone at a bar where he approached me. I was drunk enough to give him my number and three days later he gave me a call and asked for a date. With a new absence in my life, I agreed. We had a lot of fun for 2 months, and then his grandmother died. He turned to me as his crutch, and he started to get clingy and needy. He felt guilty for the emotional burden he'd placed on me, so he overcompensated for his guilt in gifts. I felt some sort of obligation to keep supporting him. How awful a person would I be if I left him during this depression?

On our 4 month "anniversary" he took me to a very expensive restaurant, where he thanked me for supporting him through his grandmothers death, dropped down to one knee and pulled out a huge cushion cut engagement ring, and proposed. I was in shock and had no idea what to say. I could feel everyone staring at me. I nodded and he put the ring on my finger and everyone clapped.

We got married 5 months later. He had a huge, Bulgarian family with a lot of women to take over wedding plans. My wedding was beautiful, traditional, and very not me. I didn't even get to choose my dress. My parents were shocked and angry at my engagement, and it basically boiled down to he didn't want me to leave and he couldn't stand the thought of someone else having me. Why did I do it? I thought this was my only chance to get married. My ex breaking up with me shook my self esteem and I thought the Bulgarian was about as good as I would get. I was 19 when we got married, he was 26.

I knew I wanted to get divorced on our honeymoon. We spent our honeymoon mostly apart. We went to India and he got food poisoning right away. He's miserable when he's sick. He becomes bitchy, crabby, irritable, and downright mean, so I didn't let him ruin my honeymoon. I found a part of myself in India, and realized I wanted a divorce. I graduated from college when I was 21 and got a job as a translator at an airport. The Bulgarian didn't like me working. He would chuckle at my insistence on completing my degree, treating it like an adorable hobby of mine. When I actually got a job he was pissed. He wanted me to stay at home like a good housewife and that's not the life for me. He started to take issue with my atheism, and proselytized to me constantly. We started getting into huge fights and I eventually told him I wanted a divorce.

I moved out of his apartment and got my own place in Boston. The divorce was messy, as it always is with money, and the Bulgarian constantly called me, alternating between berating me and asking for me back. He threatened suicide, and had a mental breakdown. His family often sent me cards telling me they prayed for me to find my way back to the Bulgarian. I once told me he attempted suicide, but later his brother told me that his suicide attempt was taking 6 aspirin and calling 911. By the time our divorce was finalized, we had been married almost 3 years.
JeNeRegretteRien JeNeRegretteRien
36-40, F
May 20, 2012