Starting this week I decided to start days where I write on a certain topic to my make my blog flow a little better. The current schedule will be:
- Truthful Tuesdays
- Wisdom Wednesdays
- Therapy Thursdays
- Story Share Saturday/Sunday
When you are young and vulnerable it seems that sometimes only love could take you away. The premise of falling in love seems to make all the struggle disappear.
I was 15 and just entering the high school era that would be filled with all new experiences. Over that summer my remaining friends either betrayed me and left me behind, or were no longer going to public school. So starting out the year I had no one and it broke my heart. I was again a loner with no one to turn to. I fit into the group that no one else wanted, and even then wasn’t exactly wanted there either. When the opportunity came up to hang out with all my old friends I jumped, that would be the time to rekindle the close bonds we had lost over months of lack of communication.
I met my old best friend at the food court at the local mall, there we met up with some of my other friends but also new people who had taken my place for all of them. I was laughing and having a good time. It was just like the old days of running around being kids. Not a care in the world.
It’s there where I met him. My friend introduced me in of all places Hot Topic. He was goofy but seemed like a bad boy. His fro was out of this world and his smile was intoxicating. No one had looked at me like that ever. The entire night we chatted and hung close to each other. I was oblivious to the flirting, but he got my number and the rest was history.
We would text each other constantly. He was all I could think about. My 15 year old mind was overjoyed. Although he didn’t go to my school we still were able to hang out on weekends. A few weeks into knowing him I asked if he wanted to be my boyfriend. I was 15, headstrong, and naive. He said yes and the rest was history.
I was with him for 5 years. We grew up together in pivotal times in both of our lives. I was struggling at home with my medical problems and father drama, but he was my freedom. He was the one that kept me going. He was always there for me no matter what. He eventually turned into the only person I had. The friends at school left me, the home life was silent, and I was all alone. But in my mind I had him.
Eventually we both lost our v-cards together and became each others best friend. I was happy with only having him. It seemed right, and it seemed that my love story would have a happy ending. We talked about getting married, moving in together, maybe even one day starting a family. We vacationed together. We explored together. We did everything together. When I was diagnosed with POTS he was there. When I couldn’t talk because it hurt too much he would bear with me. When I was going to be put under for testing he would send me flowers and teddy bears. He genuinely seemed to care.
By the time my step-father had left he had been there through my court battles, medical struggles and continuing diagnosis, being home schooled, and being completely bedridden for 6 months. We started college together, sadly at different universities but still within driving distance. We had started the relationship seeing each other once a weekend, then maybe a few times a week once he drove, then almost every day when I drove. So with the different universities I saw no trouble.
By the time we both completed freshman year he was able to transfer to my school, which I thought would be the best thing ever. He also had gotten a new job over that Christmas, which meant he had new people at work that I didn’t know. Slowly I met everyone but was kept on the outskirts. They were much older anyways since it was an auto-parts store. By the time summer rolled around things were going to change. There was a new girl. She stayed away from me, but hung out with everyone else there. She knew I was his girl. She saw me there. I had ruled her out as nothing after discussing my fears with him. He understood and told me not to worry, they were just friends.
As the summer started I could see him pulling away. My fear was that he was with her, though I had no proof. I voiced my concerns as much as possible. Voiced my concerns over his work schedule that was increasing and increasing by his own choice. By midsummer he got so angry at me that he refused to talk to me for a week. He was struggling with his own family and the after effects of a nasty divorce. I let him have that time to cool down, I knew if I said any more it would just push him away. I thought he occupied himself with work, I was wrong.
Once the communication lines were reopened we were back to normal. I looked the other way as it it had never happened. Everything was fine. Everything was going to be okay again.
Then one day he left his phone out. I went to go take a selfie to make his new background, and there it was. The chain of messages. I knew I shouldn’t have looked, that it was his phone and his privacy, but it was also my heart and my feelings.
I read them. Every single message in the chain.
For the entire week he had confided in her. The chain included many many days where they were hanging out, doing who knows what. There were questionable messages but still again, no definitive evidence. My mind shut it out, my mind still told me it was okay. It broke my heart that he was talking to her and not me though and that couldn’t be ignored. I again voiced my fears with him. He again told me not to worry. She was just a friend.
Just a friend. Always just a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.