A few years back I moved to another city with my bf at the time and we got an apartment together. After almost 4 years, I found out he was cheating on me. One afternoon I was at home and the phone rang, and it was the person he was having the affair with. I guess he had been using a fake name, so when the person on the line asked if "Mark" was home I said, "Sorry, wrong number.". The person then went on to say that they had the right number, and went on to describe my bf in detail, as well as what our apartment looked like. Soooo..not only was my bf sleeping around using a fake name, he had this person over to our place and was probably having sex with them in our bed.
Needless to say, it was a very terrible revelation and it turned my world upside down. I phoned up my friend from the city I had moved away from, and told him what was happening. We decided to hatch a plan to get my ass out of there and go back home. See, as far as I was concerned at that point the relationship was over and I could not trust that bastard to safely negotiate a reasonable split. I just had to get out ASAP.
The plan was for my friend to rent a small moving truck and drive over to get me and my stuff then leave. I had to wait a week for this to happen, mostly for finances, which was also extremely difficult having to pretend to that cheating loser I was living with that everything was fine. I wanted nothing more than to freak out and punch him, but I had to keep my cool. If he was going to screw around on me in my own home, use an alias, and all of that then I was going to end this and leave on my terms, not his.
So the afternoon previous to moving day, I wired the money to my friend so he could get a truck rental and then pay for the ferry and gas to get to where I was. At that point I was committed, as I took several hundred dollars out of my shared account to cover those costs. If my bf saw that, it would be very messy and hard to explain. That was a very stressful night, hoping he wouldn't find out. The next morning he went to work, and my friend pulled up 2 hours after that.
I only took what was mine, my clothes, my artwork and some personal effects. I didn't want anything we bought together that might cause arguments later. I wanted it clearly obvious that I only wanted my possessions. And, I left a scathing note, pretty much a fuck you message. My friend and I got into the truck with my stuff and we caught the next ferry to head back to my real home.
It was difficult, but sometimes you have to do what you need to for self-preservation. Although the period after that was emotionally traumatic, I pulled out of it and a year later I was enrolled in university and had completely turned my life around. I turned the whole process and event into an opportunity for change. Two years after I left him, I met the love of my life and we've been together for over a decade now.
