Blake engagement, part two, or maybe it's part five. I don't know, but there's so many things in between part one and part two, you will never know. I'll just tell you about the evening I left. My ex, fiance, he worked nights, he was cleaning a factory, and his job took us to a different part of the country.
And I started school, so we had a new place, new job, new school. Everything was new, I didn't have any of my family or friends near me. And it scares a shit out of me, and I wasn't in a good place with myself. But I loved him, and I thought, okay, we will deal with this, it will be okay.
After spending, yeah, I don't know how long in this new place, we started fighting, and we had been together for two years, and we started fighting. And we fought every single day, screaming in each other's faces, me crying my eyes out, and we just did this. Every single day we had the same routine, the same crazy madness, the same bullshit, excuse my language, but yeah, and it ruined me. I was broken into 10 pieces, and I didn't know how to fix it.
This guy that I spent so much time with, and we've been together for, at that time we've been together for 30 years, and we have been engaged for two years, and we had lived there for eight months. And I called my mother. This was a Friday evening, after he went to work. I called my mother, and I said, I'm losing my mind.
This is killing me. I'm drowning, and she just said, one sentence, you must to leave. This apartment was full of my stuff. He didn't own anything, everything in that apartment was mine, everything, and I didn't want to leave it.
I didn't want to leave all my things behind, leave everything that I had saved in all those years. Yeah. And I just said, no, I cannot leave. I must have planned this, and she's like, if you start to plan this, you will never leave.
To be clear, he never physically did anything to me. He never hurt me like physically. And I didn't hurt him physically, but mentally and emotionally, we destroyed each other. I can't say he was worse or better, or if I was better or worse, we were just awful with each other.
And my mother said, screw your things. Just grab a suitcase, put the things you cannot be without, and take the night train, and come north. And I just started packing. I packed a suitcase, I packed my handbag, my computer, called a taxi, climbed down that crooked staircase of the pink building we were living in, very old building.
And I just got in the taxi and started crying. The taxi driver asked me if I was okay, and I said no, but just drive. I need to get to the train station. I, by then I just had about 15 minutes before the train was coming.
The train station was empty. I was there alone. There was nobody. It was just me.
And I felt so alone. I just felt like throwing up, laying down on my stomach and giving up. But I grabbed my suitcase, I got on the train, and I closed my eyes. And the first two hours of the train ride, I just cried with my eyes closed, because I couldn't bear to look into anyone's eyes.
I just cried, I cried, and I cried for two hours. And this is a long train ride, because you're going from all the way up the south of Norway to all the way up north, or the middle of Norway actually. And by the time I got to the end station on my journey, I had stopped crying. And after that, a three-hour bus drive was waiting me.
I grabbed my stuff, got on the bus. The bus driver, he looked at me, and I could tell he was checking me out, like, are you okay, ma'am? But he didn't say anything, but he really looked at me. I hadn't been eating well for weeks, maybe for months.
I was thin. And the circles around my eyes were dark blue, and I looked miserable. I can understand why he was looking at me. And I just got in the front of the bus, and I just looked straight in front of me, and I'm just, okay, I need to go.
It's okay. I need to sit here. I will be home. I will be in my mom's house.
And strangely enough, it was around this time of year. And when I came to my city, three hours later, out of the bus, and the bus stopped, and by the seaside, in the harbor, in the terminal, and I just smelled the air, this familiar smell, that one thing I had missed all the months I was gone. The salty sea, the wind, and it was raining. It was so icy on the ground, I could hardly stand on my feet.
And then I started crying again. But those were happy tears, because I was home. I was free. And then the first thing I did was I took off my engagement ring, and that was the end of our relationship.
And I basically didn't even ever want to go back, because I felt so damaged, I felt so hurt, and I felt so ridiculously stupid for thinking I could make this work, and having faith in something that probably was doomed from the beginning. But I was young, and I was in love, and I thought that everything would be good, and everything would work itself out, as long as I just try. This is worth trying. I need to try.
I need to try harder. I need to be stronger. I need to do this. I need to really fix this.
I need to just... Yeah. But no. It didn't help.
And the fact of the matter is, he didn't call me that day. He didn't call me the next day. It took about a week before he called me. Can you imagine if you came home to an empty apartment, and your fiancé is gone?
And you know, she doesn't know. Many people in this city where she could have gone to. What would you do? Yeah, you would call the police.
You would call the hospitals. And definitely most, certainly, you would call her mobile and check, where are you? And he didn't. He just ignored the whole fact that I had left him.
He just, I don't know, just went with his daily life, his daily routine, like nothing had ever happened. And for me, that is totally freaking weird, and it also, it proves to me that it was right for me to leave, definitely. Because if it was the other way around, I would have been desperate trying to reach him. I would have called every single person that I knew knew him.
So to make sure that he was right. But he didn't call my mother. He didn't call my friends. He didn't call anyone.
I was very bruised after this, and I didn't able to go back and get my stuff. Luckily, I have a fantastic mother. And my mother, she went down to that city with movie tracks, and she packed my belongings, every single one of them, and brought them home with her again. And I just, for me, I just got, I gave up on it, I thought it's gone, I don't want it, I don't need it actually, it's just stuff.
But she wanted me to have it. And I'm thankful that she, that she did it, that she loved me that much, that she understood that I could not deal with it myself, because I was bruised and broken, and definitely not healed. It took a long time for me to heal. I stayed with my mother for about seven months, eight months, before I moved out.
Before that, I definitely wasn't ready to do it, because I needed to feel strong enough again to handle myself, and to stand alone, my own two feet in. Yeah, this is why mothers are fantastic, because they know when to hold you, and to hold you strongly, and to push you when they think that you're ready to fly again. And I was ready to fly again, and I'm so glad she pushed me. They're definitely something special, and I'm so lucky to have a mother who loves me and respects me and wants to do the best thing for me, even though I don't necessarily know what's good for me myself.