He made me feel special – like I was
one in a million. And maybe he really thought I was, but after a
while, he didn't treat me like that. He treated me like his trophy.
Like a piece of meat he wanted to show to the world. He told me I HAD
to wear a dress to a party at a friend's house when it was freezing
outside, and in the same time span, told me that if he became a rock
star, would be “obligated” to sign a fan's breasts if the
situation arose. I lost the small bit of self-respect I had, and I
felt like I was the “queen concubine” of the house: the #1 whore.
There were lots of guys who would go over to his house to party, and
girls would come over too, but I was the one who was ALWAYS there. I
didn't sleep with anyone else, but it almost felt like a status
symbol: being his girl. The other girls were called all kinds of
things, but no one (that I know of) talked crap about me, because
they would hear about it. I was the “coolest” one. It sounds
weird that my pride would be so swollen while my self-respect was
gone... but it was. When I got a job, I was automatically expected to
pay for everyone's food with my hard-earned money, which ticked me
off since he didn't have a job himself.
I didn't like what he expected me to do
to him. I didn't like what he wanted me to do for him.
Pretty soon, I didn't like him anymore. Even then, I stayed with him.
That was the worst thing I could have done... I led him on because no
matter how angry he made me, and no matter how temporarily I imagined
our relationship would last, I was afraid to imagine life without
him. I couldn't see myself having a future with him, though. A few
times, the thought entered my mind that I may end up pregnant with
his child, and immediately my mind went into battle mode,
strategizing exactly how I would remove him from my child's life. His
house wasn't a safe place to be. It wasn't a place for a child: there
was alcohol everywhere, marijuana bongs, drugs... the place was
infested with cockroaches (and when I say infested, I mean that they
were even inside the microwave time display). The house was hardly
ever cleaned. It was a party house, and there was no way I was ever
going to let my child into that environment, even if it meant calling
the authorities to rat his family out in order to declare him and the
home “unfit”.
Finally,
I realized I didn't want to be with him anymore. I broke up with
him, but he was like a magnet, always drawing me back to him. I
realized that the only way I could get out of our pattern of lust for
good would be to break all contact with him. I stopped calling,
stopped coming over. I was still in love with him. It broke my heart at first... I chose not to
date anyone for a year after I'd made that commitment, and throughout
that year I found myself crying late at night and wondering what he
was doing. Several times I held the phone in my hand, my mind
screaming his number and trying to will my fingers into dialing. He
called me a couple times too, crying and in desperation, missing me.
I don't know how I found the strength to tell him no... it must have
come from God.
Years later, after I'd gotten married and had a daughter, I kept having dreams about him. I hated it at first (who wants to be reminded of their ex?) but after about a week, I realized that maybe I needed to talk to him again. I'd broken off our relationship very immaturely (I don't know how else I could have done it at that moment, but I did regret that it happened that way) by not contacting him again. I set out to apologize to him, but he'd blocked me from the account I tried to contact him on. I tried to ask a mutual friend to send my apology for me, but he wouldn't listen to the friend. Finally I got brave and told his girlfriend that I was sorry for the way I'd ended things. I was clear to say that I am not sorry THAT we broke up, but sorry for the way I went about it. She was surprisingly respectful (though of course, not thrilled) and told me that after me, she had to pick up the pieces. I felt awful for that... but I also knew that there was probably not going to be a chance of her passing along that apology to him, especially since mention of me tended to put him in a bad mood.
Years later, after I'd gotten married and had a daughter, I kept having dreams about him. I hated it at first (who wants to be reminded of their ex?) but after about a week, I realized that maybe I needed to talk to him again. I'd broken off our relationship very immaturely (I don't know how else I could have done it at that moment, but I did regret that it happened that way) by not contacting him again. I set out to apologize to him, but he'd blocked me from the account I tried to contact him on. I tried to ask a mutual friend to send my apology for me, but he wouldn't listen to the friend. Finally I got brave and told his girlfriend that I was sorry for the way I'd ended things. I was clear to say that I am not sorry THAT we broke up, but sorry for the way I went about it. She was surprisingly respectful (though of course, not thrilled) and told me that after me, she had to pick up the pieces. I felt awful for that... but I also knew that there was probably not going to be a chance of her passing along that apology to him, especially since mention of me tended to put him in a bad mood.
Not
long after that, he died in a freak accident on an ATV. I never did
get to say I was sorry. I was cruel, vain, jealous, and vindictive
back then... and he was one of the many who suffered for it. After he
died, there was no closure. People I had loved died before him, but
that was different. They loved me and they knew I loved them. This...
all that was left was a gaping hole, and utter disbelief. Bitterness
took root, and I found a way to be angry with him even after he was
gone. Though completely illogical, my brain screamed, “HE PLANNED
THIS! HE DID THIS ON PURPOSE TO SPITE ME!” For all of my efforts, I
had absolutely no root of hope to hold to; no salve for my wound.
Memories came unbidden and I was reminded just how kind he had been to me at times. He made me feel beautiful and smart when I thought I was ugly and stupid. Once, I'd been injured and he took weeks to nurse me back to health while dealing with my awful crabby attitude. It wasn't long after these shows of kindness that I broke up with him.
For all the memories, I couldn't think of a single time I had been kind to him. Even now, I can't.
Memories came unbidden and I was reminded just how kind he had been to me at times. He made me feel beautiful and smart when I thought I was ugly and stupid. Once, I'd been injured and he took weeks to nurse me back to health while dealing with my awful crabby attitude. It wasn't long after these shows of kindness that I broke up with him.
For all the memories, I couldn't think of a single time I had been kind to him. Even now, I can't.