Ok, so referring to my very first post. I think I can give more details...
He and I had dated for five years prior. I thought I was going to marry this guy. I had many doubts, though. He was my first love, my first boyfriend...so many firsts with him. I wasn't sure if there was more to experience beyond him. Was I missing out on my youth; having the option to be single and independent, to have the choice to date whomever I pleased?
Anyway, let's do a break down of those 5 years. The first two years, I was hung up one somebody else. This somebody left me hanging with no explanation as to why it didn't work out. We didn't date, but we had been talking for quite a few months. So, the what if factor really ate at me. The third year, things were fantastic with my then boyfriend. The last two years: HELL. He relapsed and was hooked on Meth again.
When we first started dating, he told me he used to do it and stopped not too long before we started dating. I was OK with it. I trusted him. I believed him. During those last two years, he would disappear into the bathroom for long periods of time stating he had a stomach ache. He took hours to get to my house after work when I knew it shouldn't have taken longer than 45 minutes, like it used to. He wore the same thing almost everyday. He wasn't like that before, he took pride in his appearance. His room was a wreck of dirty laundry. He would lock his door and when I would go to his house in the morning, I could never get in. He'd shuffle around before he would open the door. I found foil under the bed. Little baggies in his car. I am not akin to the drug world and didn't know what any of it meant. He said he was selling and I left it at that. Why I was OK with him selling, I couldn't tell you. My friends told me they believed he was using again, but I chose not to believe because no one could say to me: "I SAW HIM DOING IT." They didn't need to see him doing it to know he was using again, but apparently, I did. His mom and I talked about it, but we were both in as much denial as anyone could be in. We refused to believe he had a problem. He had gotten so good at lying.
There are so many SO MANY details I'm leaving out. I should have known, should have been stronger, smarter. Love makes you weak. I didn't want to be THAT girl. The girl whose boyfriend was keeping her in the dark.
Too many times I cried, I begged for him to tell me so I could get him help. He wouldn't budge. I called this guy he hung out with numerous times to please tell me if my bf was using, he denied denied denied. I was lost. I didn't know what to do.
We finally broke up with the assistance of BOTH families. It was UGLY! I have never experienced so much pain in my life. I didn't eat for a week, my thought process was so messed up. I acted out, wanting attention from anyone who would give it to me. Especially male attention. I was so broken. School and work were affected the most. My boss told me, "the difference in you is like night and day. You are not performing at the level you used to." I fucking failed out of my university and got suspended for a semester.
I never want to go back to THAT me again. I've gotten stronger and learned so much through this process. My family was really there for me when I needed it. My friends understood that I was acting like a wild child and I would soon get it out of my system.
I cannot begin to thank enough those who stood by me when I needed it the most.
My hurt turned into anger. The mention of his name, the sight of him left me with pure anger. What else was there to do besides be angry at what he had done to us? We broke up and he was still using.. he called me a bitch, slut, whore, threatened me to the point where I was worried about my physical safety. I could never forgive him.
He told me I left HIM when he needed ME most. I can't tell you how many times I tried to get him to admit to me that he needed help and when he did, it was too late. I couldn't put myself through that pain any longer. **Side note: while I hated his existence, I knew that I always wanted the best for him and for him to succeed in life...
After our breakup.. I wasn't ready to be alone. I NEEDED to have someone by my side to make me feel whole. I went out and literally searched for someone who would fill that hole inside of me. I went online and eventually found someone who I thought that I truly LOVED. I was ready and willing to give him my all. And then I hurt him. Bad. And I realized that I wouldn't hurt someone I truly loved. And I feel so bad for having to hurt him to make me realize that I need to spend some time ALONE. Gain the independence I've always yearned for.
I thought and thought and thought a lot. There are a lot of things I've done that I'm not proud of. Especially the way I act when I knew I have no one to but me to hold me accountable for my actions, and I really didn't hold myself accountable for much. I was insecure. I didn't feel like enough. For anyone.
I'm a different person today. While that whole ordeal was the worst experience of my life, I wouldn't change a thing. I needed to go through that pain to make me as strong as I am today. No man will be the definition of my happiness.
So, that's where I'm going to end this post. Soon enough, I'll write about the aftermath of the break up with my most recent ex and that's where my story gets really interesting. And that's where the picture I posted in my fist entry really comes in.
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