How Is This Still A Conversation.

So I got just a tad bit annoyed with the Bestie earlier. We were chatting on Facebook while I was making the drive back to New York and when she found out about my last-minute travel plans, she sent me a message saying she was going to the first Saranac Thursday show of the season tonight and suggested that I meet up with her there if I got in early enough. As in Saranac Thursday…a summertime concert series held in the courtyard of the brewery where Mr. Wonderful (sarcasm) works. Yeahhhhh. I don’t know if she was kidding and thought she was being funny or what…but I didn’t think it was cute. And maybe I’m being just a bit too over-analytical about it…but if I am, it’s because I’ve just about run out of patience for that kind of thing these days–those smart-@$$ little quips about HIM and that ENTIRE situation. It’s gotten old. Like really, really old.


As for the Bestie, she knows better. Or she should know by now, rather. It’s not funny. Not to me. Which is the point I hopefully made perfectly clear in my replied text to her afterwards. I wasn’t mean. I simply told her how I felt. Which was that it would be in a cold day in HELL before I ever stepped foot in that courtyard for one of those events–or anywhere in the vicinity on one of those nights–ever again. It really is that simple. I have zero interest in being anywhere that place or seeing any of those people–especially HIM. And chances are, with it being the first event of the season, he most likely will be in attendance. That considered, I don’t want to see him. I just don’t. And not because I’m still naive and ridiculously hung up on the guy. Believe me, I am soooo not. At all. I got over him a long time ago. Years ago, in fact.


Still, that doesn’t mean I want to see or run into him. Just because I’ve moved on doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten all that happened or the hell he put me through. I haven’t forgotten any of it. And maybe it shouldn’t, but it still hurts a little, even now. And for that, I’m still angry. I still hate him. I haven’t forgiven him. And I might sound like a bitch for it–but I don’t want to forgive him. I don’t. That’d be too easy…and he doesn’t deserve my forgiveness…not when I know damn well he doesn’t feel the least bit sorry for any of the things he did and what he put me through.


It really bothers me that people think it’s okay to bring him up in conversation…for the Bestie to even think it’s okay to joke about something like that and actually suggest I go somewhere where there’s even the slightest chance he might be. I don’t care that it’s been well over 5 years now. And I can’t stand how people assume I’m just supposed to smile and go where he might be and not feel physically sickened at the possibility of catching even a glimpse of him.


I love the Bestie to death, but it’s something like this that is exactly one of the reasons why I stopped talking to her for that year. Her complete disregard for the fact that I want nothing to do with him. That I don’t want to hear his name or talk about him in any way, shape, or form. I didn’t then. And I don’t now. I feel bad for saying it, but it’s almost like she doesn’t understand or know who I am anymore.  If she did, she’d understand just how messed up it is for her to even suggest such a thing, whether it being in jest or not. Nothing about what happened between him and I is funny. Nothing. That period of my life was–hands-down–one of the worst of my life. I was a broken, ridiculous mess. And I nearly let it all destroy my life.


But I didn’t. I didn’t let that happen. I held it together. I picked up the pieces of my heart and my life and glued them back as well as I could. And it was hard. It was hell. It took everything I had to turn my life around, but I did it. Metaphorically speaking, my moving to Nashville was in a sense, the final act. The final step. I picked up my life and moved it 900 miles away from everyone and everything I’ve ever known. In part–yes–because of that whole situation. The way I see it, moving to Tennessee was my way of closing the book–one and for all–on that horrible chapter in my life. Those events, that place, those people, HIM–I put it all behind me the moment I pulled out of the driveway that day back in January. And not once did I look back. And I’m certainly not going to do it now. I’m not going to open that can of worms. People don’t get it, but even something as simple as going to one of those events would be a huge step backwards. And I’m done going backwards. These days, I’m moving forward. Just forward. And I’m making no exceptions.


But it’s not just him. It’s that whole scene. The drinking–all of that–it’s just not me anymore. I have no interest in any of that behavior I used to engage in. After all, where did it ever get me? Nowhere but in trouble and heartbreak, that’s where. I’ve moved on. Physically, emotionally…in every way. As far as I’m concerned, he no longer exists. He disappeared, probably to the same place as the girl I used to be disappeared to. And I have no desire to go searching for either of them. I don’t particularly like talking up Nashville to the Bestie or bragging about how well things are going in my life down there, but it’s the truth. I’m happy there. Content. I went looking for a clean slate and I found it. And I’ll be damned if I’ll give it up for a mere couple of hours of wasted socializing.


Above all that though, I’m only going to be here for a couple of weeks. I came here for some down-time and to spend time with my family and friends because only god knows when I’ll get the chance to visit again after this. I want to enjoy this time. Not spend it miserable because I had the misfortune to run into the last people I want to see at this point and time in my life. It’s just not worth it. They’re not worth it. They never were.


If the Bestie wants to hang out in a different setting, one that doesn’t involve alcohol and individuals I despise with every fiber of my being, then I have no problem with it. If not…well, then that’s her choice. Like it or not, I’ve changed. And though it saddens me to admit it, so has our friendship. Honestly, it was inevitable. A fact of life. We grew up. We’re not teenagers anymore. We’re adults with completely separate lives. That’s just the reality of it all. And while it’s bittersweet, part of me thinks it’s kind of a good thing. By that, I don’t mean that I don’t want us to stop being friends–I want nothing of the sort. All I’m saying is that my decision to move to Nashville was a good thing in that it forced me to grow up…to stop leaning on others for support. Moving 900 miles away was pure insanity and outrageous. And there was a point in time when I never would have been able to do it…when I was too scared to be without my family. To scared to not have the Bestie joined at the hip like we’d been for years. Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if she’d followed my suggestion and moved down to Nashville with me on one of the numerous times that I suggested to her that she should–and I think that while it would have been nice to be able to share these experiences and this incredible success I’ve found there with her–I also think that doing it on my own made me stronger, more confident, more assured. I did something I never thought I’d have the nerve to do. I left. And all this happiness and success–I worked hard for it. Just me. I earned it. No one gave it to me or did it for me. I did it all. And I’m pretty impressed and proud of myself, I have to admit.


Everyone always says that the best revenge is letting those people in your past that hurt you see you happy. If that’s so, well, here I am. He can look all he wants. I’m happy, in spite of all he did and all that happened. I did this. I figured out how to be happy. And the great part about it is it that it had absolutely nothing to do with him. Nada. Zip. Nothing. I’m happy because I want to be. And because I know that even with all the mistakes I may have made, I’ve earned the right to be. Most importantly, I deserve it.


And knowing that he can’t touch it, ruin it, or take it [my happiness] away this time…well, I’ve got to honestly…it’s pretty much the best feeling in the world. Truly. The. Best. 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂




Bruises Fade & The Tears Will Dry.

My world revolved around you

Every word was a promise, I was hanging on

Swept up inside a whirlwind

I just couldn’t see the end ’til you were gone

Oh, I thought I would fall apart

With shattered dreams and a broken heart

Scrambling’ in the dark

How was I to know, that I’d be okay?

Thought I’d lose it all when you walked away

How was I to know, I would be this strong?

I had what it takes all along

How was I to know?

What I was so afraid of

Turned out to be my freedom in disguise

Now, I know what I’m made of

Guess it just took some time to realize

Oh I was blind, I couldn’t tell

Put too much faith in someone else

I gave up on myself

How was I to know, that I’d be okay?

Thought I’d lose it all when you walked away

How was I to know, I would be this strong?

I had what it takes all along

How was I to know?

How was I to know?

(Lyrics, “How Was I To Know”, Reba McEntire)

There’s this quote that I swear I’ve heard half a million times that goes, “Some people come into our lives and quickly go, while others stay and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never the same.” It’s so true. It’s actually kind of incredible if you think about it…the influence and effect that a person can have on some one else’s life. It really is. So many people have come in and out of my life over the years. Loved ones, friends, lovers…absolute strangers. When you’re young, you tend to think in terms of quantity, rather than quality as far as relationships and friendships go. You basically weigh your self-worth on the basis of how many friends you have and how popular you are. And then you grow up and you realize how little those things matter, especially in the long run. You start to see people for who they really are beneath that naive cloak of adolescence. On top of all the struggles you face when becoming an adult, you’re saddled with the not-always-so-easy task of weeding out the people that you want and don’t want in your life. You’re left to figure out who you can trust and depend on, as well as the ones that neither deserve or need to be in your life…those people you can do and live without.

I’m so blessed and thankful for the people I have in my life right now, sincerely and truly thankful. Over the years, I’ve lost touch with so many friends that I’ve lost count. Some were ones that I chose to remove from my life…you know, those two-faced “so-called” friends that will smile and act all nice to your face, and then stab you in the back the moment you turn away or the first chance they get…yeah, those friends. I’ve had my fair share of friends like that over the years, some I’d even known since grade school, that I no longer talk to or see. It wasn’t until about six years ago when everything blew up with what’s-his-name and life as I knew went all to hell for me, that I decided to free myself from a lot of those “friends”. As difficult and as trying as that period of my life was then, it was also a really pivotal time. It’s like I finally took off those rose-colored glasses I’d been wearing for years and saw things for what they were…and people for whom they were. So much happened and changed during that time…I changed. I realized that I didn’t need, nor did I want, those “I-told-you-so” friends that were practically celebrating the fact that it was finally done and over with him and I…and were more concerned with having been proven right about him than they were with the fact that my entire life had just been turned upside-down and I was a total, absolute wreck. Friends don’t do that…they just don’t. I learned real quick after that all happened who I could trust and who I couldn’t–and though it wasn’t necessarily fair–instead of picking and choosing, I chose to group them all together and push everyone away. It was just easier.

I did a lot of–“soul-searching” I guess you could call it–in that year that I didn’t talk to anyone. And though it hurt so many people, my pushing them away and shutting them out like I did without even so much as an explanation or goodbye, I needed that time…in so many ways, for so many reasons. I hated the person that I’d become, that I’d allowed him to turn me into…you really have no idea. When I looked in a mirror, it was like looking at someone I didn’t know…and that scared the hell out of me. I’m not going to lie–I had some pretty close calls that year…moments where I literally just wanted to say to hell with it and would have given absolutely anything just to make the pain go away. I had this ridiculous notion starting out that I’d somehow be able to forget and put it all behind me…and when I realized just how naive and ridiculous that was–and that it was never going to happen–I think in that moment I finally just gave up. I was so sick of fighting the memories and living with the hurt and the shame and I just…wanted it to end. I remember sitting on my bathroom floor one night, a razor-blade in one hand and a bottle of sleeping pills and Oxycodone in the other and I swear, I must have sat there for hours, just staring at the bottles and the blade and thinking how easy it would be…and then I thought about the satisfaction he would have no doubt gotten if I just ended it all…and I got angry. So, so angry. He’d taken so much from me and the thought of him taking anything more, well, I just couldn’t let him win. So I didn’t. I pulled it together–somehow–and I fought back. I thought about telling everyone the truth–of publishing each and every sordid detail, every secret, every truth–of publicly humiliating him and destroying his life as he’d done mine…and then I realized something. I realized that that was what separated us…that line that he’d had no problem crossing for his own selfish reasons…I realized that I couldn’t cross it. I wanted to–godknows I wanted to–but when it came down to it, I couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to deliberately ruin someone’s life, no matter how much he deserved it, because the truth of it all is that it wasn’t just his life I’d be ruining. There were so many other people–innocent people–that would have felt the back-lash and I couldn’t do that. I realized I was better than that. Better than him. I had a conscience. And I knew that the small relief and satisfaction I’d feel wouldn’t last nearly as long as the guilt I knew would come with it. And I was sick of feeling guilty, tired of feeling like I was the bad guy in what happened…just tired of all of it, really.

And hating him–if anything–was just exhausting. Then one day I think I just woke up and decided I was done with it, with hating him, with blaming him, with anything all at having to do with him. Just done. Once I let go of all that hate, I felt so much better. I know it sounds so cliche, but it really was a relief to be free from all that, from him. It’s funny because when people ask me now whether I’d go back and change anything if I could–particularly what happened with him–they can’t believe it when I tell them I wouldn’t change a thing. Honestly–and I know it sounds crazy–but I’m actually grateful for what happened. In a way, I think I needed that experience, that heartbreak…that living hell…to become the person I am today. When I look back on that time, it’s like I’m an outsider looking in on someone else’s life. And in a way, that’s exactly what it is. I’m not that girl anymore. I’m not young and naive and easily swayed by some guy with green eyes and a few well-versed, overused lines. I know now that love isn’t the solution to everything. That you can love and believe in a person with all your heart and it still doesn’t change the fact his heart is cold and black and incapable of feeling anything. I’m not cynical really, just realistic. Fairy-tales are for kids and Disney movies…this is reality. Love can be a good and bad thing, all at the same time. And people can and will hurt you, no matter how high you build up those walls around your heart.

It’s funny, really, when I think about how far I’ve come in the last 5 years. I mean, I literally picked myself up from rock bottom and went through hell and back, ten times over, and yet, here I am. I survived what was surely one of the hardest periods of my life so far, and I’m truly a better person for it. And while I don’t like the idea of giving him any satisfaction, if we’re being honest, I do owe him some credit for that. If it weren’t for him and his twisted, overly-vindictive need for revenge and my just as determined refusal to NOT give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d wrecked me, I wouldn’t be where I am right now. I really wouldn’t. For so long whenever I thought about about him or heard his name, I’d automatically think of all the hurt and the pain. I don’t know when that changed or stopped exactly, but that doesn’t happen anymore…and hasn’t in a long, long time. There’s this saying I’ve heard that says that only you can let your fears destroy you…or something along those lines…and I think it’s pretty accurate. I mean, I gave him the power to destroy me the moment I said yes and went with him that first night. It’s kind of a harsh metaphor, but in a lot of ways, I made a pact with the devil that night. And while it’d be so easy just to blame him for everything and hate him as I once did, I realize now that it simply just isn’t worth it. It’s just not.

People come in and out of our lives all the time. And the footprints left by some are a little deeper than the shallow ones left by others. That’s life. And I happen to believe that everything happens for a reason. I’m not necessarily convinced that it’s some kind of “divine intervention”–these paths we take in life–but I do believe that it all–every person we meet, every decision we make, every path we take–has a purpose. Though I think I would have preferred that it hurt less than it did, I think his purpose and the role that he played in my life was to lead me to the realization that I’m enough…just me…and to make me realize that I’m a hell of a lot stronger than I thought I was. I mean, I could have given up that night, sitting on the floor of my bathroom. I could have said to hell with all of it. But I didn’t. I think Bob Marley said it best when he said that, “You don’t know how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have.” That was certainly true in my case. And believe it or not, there’s actually an upside to losing everything and hitting rock bottom…which is that there’s nowhere to go but up. You can let the people and memories from your past and all that pain destroy you and keep you down; let it break you. Or you can pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and fight back.

That’s what I did. I fought back in the only way I really knew how–by being happy. I stopped letting the lies and accusations and rumors that were going around about me have any kind of hold over me. I stopped blaming myself and feeling guilty for things that were out of my control. But most important, I refused to allow that relationship, that one mistake, define me. I made a mistake–I did–and I’m not proud of some of the choices I made then…but we all have a past. We all have regrets, some bigger or worse than others. I think that the footprints he made are always going to be there…though they’ve faded for the most part, at this point. For a really long time, I thought that moving on meant forgetting completely…but I was wrong. I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever forget, or if I will ever be able to run into again without remembering all that pain that he caused me or the terrifying depths that he drove me to…of if I’ll ever make peace with it or forgive him even…but I think that’s okay. I don’t know what the future has in store for me or what’s going to happen one day from the next. And I don’t know how to explain how I know it, but I know that I’ll be okay…that much, I’m sure of…


Absentmindedly Thinking Of You.

Here are some amazing lyrics from a song I can’t seem to get out of my head, that I thought I would share. The song is called “Almost Lover” and it’s from a band called A Fine Frenzy.

VERSE: Your fingertips across my skin / The palm trees swaying in the wind / Images / You sang me Spanish lullabies / The sweetest sadness in your eyes / Clever trick.

CHORUS : Well I never want to see you unhappy / I thought you’d want the same for me / Goodbye my almost lover / Goodbye my hopeless dream / I’m trying not to think about you / Can’t you just let me be? / So long my luckless romance / My back is turned on you / Should’ve known you’d bring me heartache / Almost lovers always do.

VERSE: We walked along a crowded street / You took my hand and danced with me / Images / And when you left you kissed my lips / You told me you would never forget these images.

VERSE: I cannot go to the ocean / I cannot drive the streets at night / I cannot wake up in the morning / Without you on my mind / So you’re gone and I’m haunted / And I’ll bet you’re doing just fine / Did I make it that easy to walk right in and out of my life? / Goodbye my almost lover…


So those are the lyrics. Sorry, I have a thing with sappy songs. But personally, they are the best kind. They’re a good reminder of that life isn’t always pretty. And that life is real. It’s messy and sometimes it’s just plain raw. Pure and simple. These lyrics feel personal to me. It easily relates to what I’m going through right now. The last lines of the lyrics are exactly what I’m feeling. I’m constantly asking myself how everything got so bad. It’s like one day I was so happy and the next I had hit rock bottom. It has a little to do with Mr. Should’ve-known-better. Not entirely though. It has alot to do with how much I’ve changed in the past months. I miss him far more than I want to admit. I shouldn’t though, right? I don’t know why. The most random things remind me of him. Lyrics in a song, a movie, even a stranger on the street. Most of the time it’s okay really. But then there are the moments when it hits hard, like a painful blow that comes out of nowhere. Sometimes I will just cry for hours until there are no tears left. It helps a little. It’s better than keeping it all inside until one day I just have a total breakdown. I won’t lie. I’ve had a few of those already.

It’s just these simple little moments when I think about him, wondering how he is and if he’s happy. I don’t bother with what-ifs anymore. Those are just a waste of time. I know this is for the best. It’s just a little hard to accept some times, that’s all. I miss calling him at work, bothering him just to hear his voice. I miss him skipping my songs on the jukebox because they’re too sappy and girlie. I miss him calling me sunshine. I miss how happy I felt when I was with him even though I knew he would have to leave eventually. God, it felt so right, even though I know in my head that it was wrong. I haven’t seen him in so long. Logically, I know that there’s eventually going to come the day when we run into each other for the first time. Honestly,I’m surprised we haven’t already, seeing how small the area is. In a way, I’m glad we haven’t, mainly because I don’t know how it will be. Would I recognize him? Would he recognize me? I have this reoccurring dream where I just stand there and say nothing. Sometimes I just cry and flee. I’m scared of seeing the hate and anger in his eyes. And what I’m most afraid of is seeing this guy who is nothing like the one in my memories.

He’s not the only one I miss though. I miss me. I miss the happy, exciting life I once had. Before it got so bad, I had a life. It may not have been perfect or great, but at least I was satisfied with it. Now I feel like there is something missing. This empty void. I keep searching but I don’t even know what it is I’m looking for. I used to go out with my friends all the time, too much maybe. And that bar where it all first began I can’t even look at it when I drive by. I haven’t gone out, not even once, since it happened. It wasn’t entirely because of him, although a part of me was scared of running into him. It was like a switch just turned off in my head. I needed time to think, time to cry, and more than anything, I needed time to get my life back together. In doing so, I pushed away a lot of people. My friends and my family, the people who care about me. I didn’t mean to. It just happened. I was so afraid of letting them see me broken like that. I didn’t want their concern or opinions, and I really didn’t want their pity. I also didn’t want to hear I told you so. I knew I had messed up, I didn’t need to have it thrown in my face. I gave up everything. That bar that holds so many memories- I can’t even step foot inside, afraid of remembering what was lost and seeing everyone who knew but never said a thing. I barely talk to my friends anymore. When I do, I pretend I’m doing fine. But they know. I know they do. I’ve changed a lot, in a good way mostly. I’m not as irresponsible and reckless like I was. I’ve done a lot of growing up, but that was inevitable, with or without what happened. The wild parties, pulling all-nighters, and getting so trashed that I can barely remember my own name- those just aren’t me anymore. I realize now that all I was doing was running away from reality. I was good at that. But I’m tired of running. I actually made an attempt to test the waters again, so to speak, last week. I decided to go out, totally last minute. So I went to a bar with my friends. I was probably only there for less than an hour, but within a minute of stepping thru the doors, I wanted nothing more than to turn around, run home, and lock myself in the safe haven of my apartment. It was loud and crowded and I couldn’t stop shaking. My hands shook so bad I spilled most of the water in the cup I was holding. It was overwhelming and I felt like crying. I was so embarrassed, even though I knew everyone else was too drunk to even notice how uncomfortable I felt. And I did. That used to be my life and standing there after all this time, I realized that I didn’t miss it one bit. It’s as if that life belongs to a complete stranger, a girl I no longer am and have no desire to be again. So yeah. I should give this post a rest or I’ll end up with a whole book instead of a blog. (then again, that’s not such a bad idea haha just kidding.) Until next time.


Tattoos & Love Gone Wrong…

MESSIE here again. I know this is two posts in one day, but I wrote this one last night and just decided to post it.

As mentioned in my first post, I will sometimes post lyrics and/or videos from my favorite songs and then share my thoughts on them. I love music. There’s not a specific genre I prefer or anything. I listen to pretty much all types, except for rap and heavy metal. My fave would have to be country, me being a small-town girl and all. Music for me is like writing. Songs are just one way of telling a story or expressing your thoughts. Have you ever just heard a song and said to yourself “wow, this could be the story of my life”? It happens to me all the time… So here’s the first song of the dozens I love. It’s not that old, a few years maybe. It’s called “Tattoo” and the artist is Jordin Sparks

VERSE: No matter what you say about love / I keep coming back for more / Keep my hand in the fire / sooner or later, I get what I’m asking for / No matter what you say about life / I learn every time I bleed / The truth is a stranger / my soul is in danger / I gotta let my spirit be free to admit that I’m wrong and then change my mind / Sorry, but I have to move on / and leave you behind…

CHORUS: I can’t waste time so give it a moment / I realize that nothing’s broken / No need to worry about everything I’ve done / Live every second like it was my last one / Don’t look back / got a new direction / I loved you once then needed protection / You’re still a part of everything I do / You’re on my heart just like a tattoo / Just like a tattoo / I’ll always have you…

VERSE: Sick of playing all of these games / It’s not about taking sides / When I looked in the mirror / didn’t deliver / It hurt enough to think that I could stop / admit that I’m wrong / and then change my mind / I’m sorry but I’ve gotta be strong / and leave you behind…

VERSE: If I live every moment / won’t change any moment / There’s still a part of you in me / I will never regret you / still the memory of you / marks everything I do…

BRIDGE: Just like a tattoo/I’ll always have you.

Now for MY thoughts:

I love this song. It’s definitely in my top favorites. The song reminds me of so much. To me, the song is about moving on and letting go. The beginning lyrics are great. It’s about love and risk, how even when you know you’re going to get hurt, you do it anyway. You ignore the risk and take the plunge head-first, again and again. It’s about letting go, but still holding on to the memories. It’s perfect. It’s so me…

When it comes to relationships I usually dive in without checking the depth first. I have trust issues. Either I don’t trust at all, or I trust too much. There really is no middle ground. It’s all or nothing. I wasn’t into the whole dating thing in high school like a lot of people were. I never really saw the point. I never felt like I was missing out, rather I felt like I was one of the smart ones for NOT dating. To be honest, dating in highschool was more like a source of amusement for me than anything else. I always thought it comical when one of my friends would start “dating”. The relationship would usually last a whole two seconds. It typically took less than a week before they announced their “undying” love for one another. I found that laughable. It was such a joke. I’d say it was lust maybe, but it definitely wasn’t love. You don’t fall in love in a week when you’re 15 years old. Sorry, but you just don’t. It was even more amusing when I’d hear them say that they were going to be together forever. That’s nice. Sure it happens, but realistically speaking, most people don’t marry their highschool sweetheart and live happily ever after. Seriously people! I always wanted to tell them to get real and ask them if they really want to be one of those people 20 years down the road, who look at their yearbook and feel like an idiot when reading me+(insert name) together 4ever in their senior will. At least I had the brains to not fall into THAT trap!

Statistically speaking, I’m probably weird for the fact that I didn’t date til college. Then again, I probably should have dated a little. Maybe then I wouldn’t have been so naive. My first relationship was with a boy I met at school. He was a couple of years older and your typical private school rich boy. Oh, he was nice at first. Looking back, I don’t know how I could have missed the warning signs. They were so obvious. It wasn’t long until I saw him for the abusive jerk that he was. It sucks. I mean you tell yourself over and over when you’re growing up that you won’t ever be one of those women who gets caught in a bad relationship, or that stays. But you never really know what you would do until you are in that situation. It was hell. It was like walking on eggshells all the time and having to be careful with what I said and did ALL THE TIME. I’m so ashamed of myself because I stayed for so long. I learned quickly and the hard way that fighting back only made it worse. I took his abuse for months. I wanted out but it was so hard. After every fight he’d tell me he was sorry and promise that it would never happen again. And then it would. I wanted so badly to believe him when he told me he would change. I never believed him, not really, but still I stayed. The worst part is that no one knew, not my friends or my family. I was too ashamed to tell anyone, mainly because for some reason I felt like maybe I’d done something to deserve. I hadn’t, but that’s what I thought at the time. It took more than a year and me leaving campus, but I finally got out. It wasn’t easy getting past something like that. I don’t think you ever completely forget. It changes you. Afterwards, I pretty much stayed clear away from relationships. I wasn’t a saint, but nothing was never serious. I’ve had relationships since, none coming close to being worth mentioning. My most recent one ended months ago. Honestly, I don’t think it can even be considered a relationship. It was more of a casual arrangement. To save time, I’ll give the short version. If I were to give the long version, I would be at this for days, literally. Besides, I’ll probably bring up the topic in future posts.

So here goes. He was a bartender part-time at a local bar my friends and I would usually frequent. He was a lot older than myself. It was a long time before I even noticed him, to be honest. Age was a factor somewhat, but it was mainly due to the fact that I was actually coming out of a relationship. Anyways, one night I got really drunk and one thing led to another. I honestly never expected it to go past that one night. Somehow it did. Looking back, I don’t know how it happened. It just did. From the very beginning he was secretive. That should have been a sign telling me to run away and not look back. But the stupid, naive girl that I was, I stayed. It turned out that my instincts were dead-on. He had a family. A girlfriend he’d been with for 16 years and a baby girl. By the time I learned the truth, it was too late. I had already fallen for him, fallen hard. I know it was wrong and I hate myself for what I did, but I allowed it to continue. In my defense, I loved him. I really did. It sounds absurd, but he was my first love. I wondered then and I ask myself still, why him? Why did I have to fall for a guy like him? He lied to me and he used me. He knew I cared and he used that to his advantage. The worst part is that I let him do it. I knew that every time he left me, he was going home to her. I never met her but I hated her. I hated her because she had his heart and years of history. She knew who he was and I couldn’t even get him to tell me his middle name. I threw away my morals for him and for what? For a quick hookup on some back road? It hurt so much to keep it going, but I couldn’t walk away no matter how bad I wanted to. All I ever was to him was his “dirty little secret”. I’ve never cried so much as I did with him. That’s not to say that it was all his fault. I accept my share of the blame. He might not have made direct promises, but he did mislead me. I have to give him credit, it’s only fair. He was good. He knew just what to say to keep me around, to keep me hanging on his thread…

It lasted 15 months. I did what should have been done a long time before. I let the truth to be known. My only satisfaction was that I surprised him. I don’t think he ever expected me to have the nerve to actually do it. He underestimated me. Eventually you just get to a point where you’ve been hurt so much, that you need to do something, anything, to get back some of the control you’ve lost. Needless to say, we definitely did not end on good terms. It was ugly. Words, insults, and accusations were thrown around. Things were said and done that can never be forgiven or taken back. The only good thing that came from it all was that I was finally able to see him for who he really was. Doing what I did was hard and it hurt like hell, but it was inevitable. It was better for everyone this way. He hates me and for that I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do about that. He broke my heart and I don’t think I can ever forgive him for that. They say that time will heal the pain, but it doesn’t.

He will never know how I cried myself to sleep for weeks after, or how long it took for me to even think about him without crying. It has been nearly 8 months now and I can honestly say that I am okay. The pain I feel is bittersweet but I would rather have that than feel nothing at all. I don’t even hate him, to the dismay of others. I am sure I could easily find a reason to if I wanted to, but I don’t. We were both wrong to do what we did. It was selfish. But I don’t regret it or him. In the end, he showed me how it feels to love. He was my first love and the first to break my heart, but he won’t be the last. I’ve let him go. I loved him. I still do. I probably always will. Now I know what people mean when they say the first love is the best and the worst.

So yes, I’m a little jaded you could say. I’ve changed a lot. I’m happy though, for the most part. I am no longer quite so naive. But that’s ok. So like the song says, he will always be a part of me. I’m okay with that. Truly. For now, anyhow…


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