I wish I hadn't been so jealous

Okay, so this is hard to write. I don't even know why I'm doing this, but I guess it's gotta come out somehow. I was a terrible girlfriend. Not like, physically abusive or anything crazy like that. Just…jealous. So, so jealous. And I ruined everything.

His name was David. We were together for almost three years. He was…perfect. Like, annoyingly perfect. Smart, funny, kind, the kind of guy who volunteers at the soup kitchen on weekends. And ridiculously good-looking. I mean, seriously, he could have been a model.

And me? I’m…average. I know that sounds pathetic, but it’s true. I’m not ugly, but I’m not winning any beauty contests either. I work a dead-end job, I'm not particularly talented at anything, and I have this stupid anxiety that makes me overthink everything. So, naturally, I assumed he was going to leave me for someone better. Someone prettier, smarter, more interesting. It was just a matter of time.

So, I started looking for signs. Checking his phone when he was in the shower (I know, awful!). Reading his emails. Questioning him about every female coworker, every girl he’d ever even glanced at. I turned into this paranoid, insecure monster. And the more I did it, the worse it got. He’d say something innocent, and I’d twist it into evidence that he was secretly in love with someone else.

I remember one time, he was talking about a project at work, and he mentioned a woman on his team, Sarah. Just said, ‘Sarah had a great idea about how to approach the client.’ And I just LOST it. Accused him of flirting with her, of thinking she was smarter than me, of wanting to sleep with her. He was completely blindsided. He tried to explain, to reassure me, but I wouldn't listen. I just kept yelling and crying until he finally shut down.

It happened over and over again. Little things, blown completely out of proportion. I pushed him away, bit by bit. He became withdrawn, quiet. He stopped sharing things with me. I could see the hurt in his eyes, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I was so consumed by my own fear and insecurity that I couldn’t see what I was doing to him.

Eventually, he broke up with me. Said he couldn’t do it anymore. That I was too exhausting. That he loved me, but he couldn’t live with the constant accusations and the mistrust. And honestly, I don’t blame him.

It’s been two years. I’ve been in therapy. I’m trying to be better. I understand now that my jealousy was about my own issues, not about him. He was actually a really good guy. But I ruined it. I pushed him away. And now he’s gone. I still think about him all the time. I wish I could go back and do things differently. I wish I had trusted him. I wish I hadn’t been so damn jealous. It’s the biggest regret of my life.