When Jill's boyfriend, Emmet, refuses to tell where he travels every month, she starts to suspect the worst. She couldn't imagine that he was visiting someone very familiar to her.
I've been wrestling with this for a while and finally decided to share my story. For the past year, Emmet has been vanishing once a month, not saying where he’s going or why. It was like clockwork, and each time he returned, he seemed more distant, lost in thought.
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I didn’t want to be the paranoid girlfriend, but his secretive outings made me uneasy. Every time I asked, he’d brush it off, saying it was just some personal time he needed. I trusted him, but the consistent secrecy nagged at me.
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Now, I need to give you a bit of a backstory for this to make sense. I had an older sister, Amber, who suddenly left home when I was just 15. She cut all ties with our family, and we never heard from her again. Her departure left a gaping hole in my life and an ever-present fear that those I love could just disappear without warning.
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This old anxiety resurfaced with Emmet's behavior. The fear of abandonment I felt with my sister started to echo in my relationship, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Emmet might just up and leave like Amber did.
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For months, I agonized over whether to confront Emmet about his secretive outings or just let it be. But each time he slipped away, my anxiety spiked, reminding me of when my sister Amber left without a word. That old fear of abandonment crept in, making me restless and suspicious.
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I debated with myself endlessly. Following him felt like a massive breach of trust, something I never thought I’d consider. But then, part of me argued that if everything was above board, he wouldn’t be so secretive, right? The not knowing became unbearable, and I felt like I was losing my mind.
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So, one sunny Saturday, when Emmet went on his usual monthly excursion, I decided to follow him. My heart was pounding, and my hands were sweaty as I started my car and kept a safe distance behind him. The entire drive, my mind was racing with possibilities. Was he meeting someone? Was he involved in something illegal? Or was it something entirely benign, and I was just being paranoid?
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As we drove, the area became more familiar, and then it hit me – we were nearing the local cemetery. My initial reaction was confusion. A cemetery? Why would he come here every month? My thoughts spiraled, considering every possible reason, but none fit the Emmet I knew.
The Burying Point - Salem | Source: Getty Images
Parking my car a bit away, I followed him on foot, staying far enough behind to avoid detection. My heart was in my throat with every step, and my brain was screaming, "What are you doing?!" But I needed to know the truth.
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When he finally stopped at a grave, I hid behind a large oak tree, watching him. He just stood there, looking down, his shoulders heavy with what I assumed was grief. At that moment, my fear and confusion turned into a profound sadness. Seeing him like this, vulnerable and alone, made me realize this wasn't about betrayal; it was about pain.
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