It was an unstable relationship—I was 29, she was 39.

She proved to be quite immature and inconsistent throughout the relationship, to the point of breaking up with me over the phone three times. The first time was entirely because I forgot to book a trip she’d been mentioning for months, and I had a lot of unresolved issues in my life to deal with.

On our first date at the motel, she was already making little jokes about pregnancy, and I set boundaries. When I set boundaries for the third time, she played the victim, saying she felt insecure.

She went through my entire Instagram and WhatsApp to see if I was chatting with other girls, and she always brought it up. I proved to her beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was just her and me, but I couldn’t see her messages to a certain extent.

In her circle of friends, she’d introduce me to everyone as her “trophy,” like, “Look at my hot new guy.”

She always insisted on paying for everything, and that bothered me so much that I put my foot down and said, “Either we split it or I’ll pay,” and she’d just reply, “We’ve already talked about this.”

She always gave me gifts, and I did the same, but in front of everyone, with flowers and chocolates.

I made future plans with her, like egg freezing, etc., because of the age difference, but her biggest concern was getting breast implants in the middle of the year.

She had a 17-year-old son; the boy didn’t talk to his father but really liked me—he missed me.

She often outsourced our intimate “crisis” moments to her friends; she was always the one who paid for everything when we went out, and I always warned her about fake friendships, like, “Try saying you're screwed—let's see who your real friends are.”

Twice she made up stories that so-and-so and what’s-his-name had sent her flirty messages; one was from a mutual acquaintance. I asked three times to see the messages, and her answers were evasive: “You didn’t want to see them before, so I’m not going to show you now,” “Oh, I’ll delete the messages,” “Oh, I’ve already sorted things out with him.”

Once at a party, that same guy she used to make me jealous came up to both of us and asked, “So, are we going to the motel?”

The ending was even worse and tragic; I felt used. What hurts the most is the disappointment—I had made plans for the future. I had to block her on Instagram for a while to give myself some space, and she was extremely offended. I was already talking to another girl on the phone, and that same day she called me 19 times asking me to fuck her, sent me a photo of the motel room key, and I went there.

She was completely out of her mind, dancing on the bed, I think she had the whole plan figured out. Before she called me to the hotel, her son called me and said, “Take care of my mom, don’t let her get home too late because she’s really drunk.” Before anything started, she looked me in the eyes and asked, “You haven’t slept with anyone, not even a little kiss?” I told the truth and was honest and said no.

I asked her the same thing; she said she hadn’t been with anyone, and then there was sex, kissing on the mouth, “I miss you” this and “I love you” that. Finally, she turned and grabbed her phone—all I could see was a male contact with the name and in the middle of a conversation full of hearts and emojis, she turned to me and said, “Yeah, on the day 8th I hooked up with a cop at the bar. He drove me home, and I had sex with him in the car.”

So I told her, “Why did you call me here? To humiliate me? Here’s what you do: don’t call me, just stay with him,” and she’s been blocked ever since. I got out of the Uber, just said goodbye, and asked her son if she had arrived. She blocked me from everything and only has my parents’ contact info. She’s all dressed up now. I saw a quick glimpse of her on a friend’s story at a party with what looked like a guy next to her—to the point where I went out to check if the guy was better or worse than me.

The six months we were together, the advice I gave her son seems to have been completely disregarded. What hurts me the most is that I’m suffering while she’s out there enjoying herself, looking beautiful, carefree, and loose, with new clothes, all dressed up as if nothing had happened.

She’s blocked me, and I’m not going back. I just feel used.

And I’m the sucker—while I’m depressed, she’s out there enjoying life, showing total disregard for me. Her friends didn’t like me; they’d say things like, “Oh, you really don’t bring any luck.”

“What are you doing with this guy? You two are totally incompatible,” and she’d reply, “He treats me like a princess.”

But something tells me that one day she’ll look back and realize what a mess she made—or maybe not…

I’ve already cut ties and won’t be coming back. She blocks me, then unblocks me sometimes on WhatsApp. Today I’m keeping her blocked, and she’s keeping me unblocked.

I don't know what she's trying to achieve with this, but ever since that day at the motel—as I mentioned in the comments above—she's been blocked, and she'll stay that way.

Two months later, she's already with someone else. I feel used, like a fool, like I wasted my time and put all my trust in a rotten person. It hurts a lot; while I'm struggling, she's doing just fine.

She pulled that whole revenge stunt at the motel because I blocked her on Instagram and explained that I needed some time to myself, and she didn’t get it. She said, “OH, SO YOU JUST HAD TO SILENCE ME,” called me a jerk, and said I’d been badmouthing her around because I mentioned to a mutual friend that she’d abandoned me when I needed her most.

My parents have her on WhatsApp and Instagram, and sometimes I slip up and go check her out. It’s so painful to see someone living their life normally as if nothing had happened; I feel discarded, used.

I saw a story from that mutual friend who spread the gossip, and she was apparently already sitting at a table talking to what looked like a guy. I feel so bad that I’ve been monitoring the city surveillance camera in front of her house to see if she’ll show up with someone.

Please help me bc i'm suffering.

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