I am in love with a colleague who is 26 years old, and I’m 31, a divorcee. We truly love each other, and he is so caring and affectionate. We are from different religions as well. We have been living together without our parents’ knowledge for the past two months, and we used to have small fights often. I love this guy unconditionally, but we never discussed much about how we would make it to marriage, considering our differences.
He has a sister, and he wanted her marriage to be done before talking about us to his family. So, he asked me to wait for a year, which I agreed to. A couple of days ago, we had a huge fight, and he said he wanted to leave and break up with me. I cried and fought with him. He cried a lot too, but I kept scolding him and told him that I might die without him. He said he had no other option, that we always fought, and that I used to yell at him.
He sat alone in tears for some time, and after about 30 minutes, I heard him coughing. When I looked, he had split a tablet and told me that he had taken sleeping pills. I cried and made him vomit 2-4 times, but no tablets came out. He then said he had mixed 30 tablets with water and drank it. I rushed him to the hospital immediately and informed both his and my friends.
Apparently, he had these tablets for three years-one was a sleeping pill, and the other was an anti-anxiety medication. He had obtained them online through a fake prescription. His family arrived and questioned me. I told them he was with me, but they all started blaming me, thinking it was my fault.
I stayed at the hospital the whole day, making sure he was stable. That night, I left, and from the next day onward, none of his friends or family allowed me to visit him. They all see me as the villain, despite knowing that I was the one who saved him. They just told me he was fine and would be shifted to a normal ward within a day.
I don’t know what to do next. I seriously don’t even know whether he actually took the pills because he seemed completely fine the next day and spoke to others normally. I am so worried about how to meet or talk to him-or whether I even should. My friends advised me not to go to the hospital to see him and told me to wait for him to reach out. But I can’t take this pain, and I’ve started thinking that it’s all my fault. This guilt is killing me.