This is less honorable than 99% of the accounts on here. For that, I'm sorry.

On June 7, my (now ex) boyfriend Tim Modeste came back to my home at 8am drunk out of his mind and on narcotics. Of course I was furious, so I yelled at him. He grabbed a kitchen knife twice, I was frightened, so I called the cops. While I was waiting to call the cops, he fell on my toilet and broke it (pictured above). He proceeded to lock himself in the bathroom for forty minutes while the police and I tried to cajole him into coming outside and cooperating. Of course, he didn't and eventually they had to enter by force. Drunkenly, he resisted, but they got him onto a stretcher and took him to New York Presbyterian's emergency psych department. At this point, I still loved him and yelled "Please don't hurt him"

As instructed by the police, I started looking for his State ID. While I didn't find it, I came across his phone (buried under condoms, strip club tickets(?) and trash) and of course I was curious as to where he was. I unlocked it and found dirty text messages from at least three different girls. I texted all the women I could find that I was his girlfriend and to kindly get tested because recently I had found out that Tim gave me a more serious STI. All but one said "I'm so sorry, I didn't know, please let me know what I can do." One girl, let's just call her 'Elisa,' said "please call me, I think this is the only time we can talk." Fast forward 3 hours - I learn that not only had Tim been sleeping with Elisa with AND without protection for nine months, but that he had also went out with her, spent money on her, invited this girl to my family's home while I worked.

Speaking of my family's home, I made the unwise decision of having him live with me (lesson learned). I am so fortunate to have such hard working immigrant parents. They bought this condo with twenty years of savings, blood, sweat, and tears. Tim had the audacity to invite an STI-ridden girl (who knew I existed) into the home my parents had worked so hard to build for their daughter. He actually met this girl after I helped him find a new job at a real estate company. He had confided in me that he felt like a huge life change was needed to jolt him out of his unsustainable habits. He didn't find his server job meaningful and thought that with a new career, he could make up for all the horrible things he had already put me through at that point. Elisa was among his first clients at this real estate company. He started sleeping with her almost immediately after they met, knowing full well that this would very much hurt me, especially given all the effort I was putting in to helping him heal, forgiving, and being open-minded/flexible.

Right now, he also owes me $4000 of rent and other things that have added up after the last two years. As a girlfriend and not a landlord, I did not feel right (although I should have) to kick him out and have him sleep on someone else's floor (or even on the streets). How could I? This is your best friend, your baby. Now I know that he had actually spent *my* money on strip clubs, on drinking, on drugs. All while staying out late, worrying me to death, but also guilting/manipulating me into seeing these actions as a "cry for help" that justified all this mistreatment.

Fast forward again to this morning. I have been sleeping outside in my living room because the smell from the toilet is starting to fill up the entire space. I call the handyman up and he says I need to buy an entirely new toilet and pay for installation. In my zip code, the total estimated cost is around $562 and $958. I thought, the least Tim can do for me, through all this, is pay for my toilet repair. He was certainly sorry, but had no plan. Instead, the first time I called him, he said "I can't do it, I can't do it, I'm done" and hung up.

I feel helpless, hurt, and distraught. I truly cannot bring myself to ask my parents for money, knowing that I let this god awful boy sweet talk/guilt trip/hold me emotionially captive for almost two years and that they had hoped to raise a less cowardly daughter.

I feel so lucky to have such a strong emotional support system. Truly, that is more than enough. Anything I can get here is really supplementary.

Thank you