It all started back when I was in the 5th grade. I really liked this boy...for our purposes, let's call him Zeus. (No, that is nowhere near his real name!) This boy was my best friend. We did everything together. We were almost constantly on the phone and I would do anything for him. I loved him. Even now that I look back on it, he was the first boy I ever really loved, and unfortunately, he wasn't the last one to break my heart. So anyway, Zeus and me were the best of pals.
We spent all our free time together and I just knew we were going to get married someday. I was severely mistaken. As our friendship grew, Zeus learned of my crush on him and realized that I would do anything for him. He began to take advantage of my love. (Whether or not it was purposeful I have yet to discover.) He would say extremely mean things to me and treat me badly and I just put up with it all. I would go home, lock myself in my room, and cry my eyes out. I didn't want anyone to blame him for my pain. It was all my fault he didn't love me. I was fat, ugly, and an embarrassment to be around. Every night I would pray for God to send me someone. One day, he did.
I remember it like it was yesterday, I was in the 6th grade when he came to our school. Let's call him, Joe. Joe was the "new kid". I decided I would try and make nice with him. Well, we made nice. So nice in fact that I was positive that this was the guy that God had sent me. (Wow! That was fast!) Joe and me were just friends for a long time and then he had to move away. I was devastated. But I just kept believing that Joe would come back. He had to. God sent him to me.
The beginning of my 8th grade year, yep you guessed it, Joe's back! I was so excited when I saw him walk in that I almost ran and hugged him. (I didn't because that wasn't a very "cool" thing to do. Once again Joe and me hit it off right off the bat. Around Halloween I saw my chance to ask Joe out. He turned me down. I was very upset. But I never stopped trying. I asked him to go with me to the Halloween dance. He wound up dancing with me quite a lot. I was the happiest girl alive.
Finally, on January 26, 2006, I got my wish. Joe was mine. We started dating and I was so happy that I couldn't stand it. Mine and Joe's relationship seemed like it would last forever. Everyone said, "You guys will NEVER break up!" I believed them, too. Me and Joe never had a fight and we always agreed. We had almost everything in common. We broke up for one day a month after you 1 year anniversary, but we were back together before the day was out. He told me that he couldn't stand not being with me and that he couldn't live without me. Bull Bularki.
About six months after our horrible 1 day break up, on November 18, 2007, my life ended... rather, I wished it would have ended. This was the worst day of my entire life. Joe had just gotten off of being grounded because his Mom didn't want us dating anymore, but he refused to end it with me. I was so excited because we were going to see each other that afternoon and everything was perfect.
Until the phone rang.
It was Joe's Mom. She wanted to talk to my Dad. After about 20 minutes I knew something was wrong. My Dad came out of his room with a grim look on his face and tried to find the words to explain to me that my almost 2 year relationship was over. My happiness was gone.
The weeks that followed were full of emotions. I went from hopefulness to extreme depression in seconds. I got to school Monday and Joe told me never to talk to him again. I was devastated. Then, things were getting better. Joe decided to talk to me again. This sadness couldn't last. (He was my gift from God, remember?) Well, it did. And it got worse. Joe decided to give me a full range of excuses for why we weren't together anymore. "Mom doesn't want us together," "God doesn't want us together," and even, "I just don't ant a girlfriend right now."
But what hurt me the most. What cut me the deepest was this one; " I don't love you anymore, not like that. We had something great, but we don't anymore and chances are we will never have it again." My chest felt lich someone had taken a scalpel to my already mutilated heart. I wanted more than anything in the world to die.
In the months and weeks after the break up I kept holding on. I tried to pretend like nothing was different. I followed him around, until he told me to stop. I told him I loved him, until he stopped answering me back, and I kept his pictures and stuffed animals and anything that held a memory of him. I held on. I refused to let him go. Now that I look back on it, I was kind of holding the dagger in my heart and refusing to pull it out.
"Now that I look back on it, I was kind of holding the dagger in my heart and refusing to pull it out. "
My world was collapsing around me. It seemed like there was devastation every where. My best friend lost her boyfriend. A good friend of mine past away. I felt more alone than ever. All I did was cry. I would starve myself for days and then binge out of depression and although I didn't physically cut myself. I began to deepen my wound. I would purposefully show up places I knew he was. I would try to see him all the time. In my spare time I looked through what I now call my "Joe Box" I was pouring salt into the wound. I screwed up the only thing good I ever had and I deserved to suffer.
After I got through my whiny stage, life began to return to normal. I hung out with my friends and I put as much distance between me and my ex as possible. I was going to be happy. I began to make myself have crushes and although I was let down a lot by these crushes, it gave me something to aim for. I wanted to be better. Everyday things became easier. I’m not saying things were easy but they at least became bearable. I was slightly happy again.
Yes, now and then I still cry because I know I still love him. Rather, I love who I thought he was. But my Romeo is dead. I know that the person I love no longer exists. I am trying to accept that all our time spent together is now just a pleasant memory that I will someday be able to look back on and smile about. He was my second love. And I know he will not be my last. I still hope sometimes that we will get back together. I know we won't. There isn't anything wrong with dreaming though.
Through all of this, I know I could not have made it to where I am today without the help of God and of my Best Friends; (no particular order, I love you all the same!) Ashley, Lauren, Chloe, Shereena, Brad, Sean, Robert, Trever, Jacqueline, Sean, Stephanie, Laura, Mrs. Safford (My art teacher! yes I am a nerd.), Mrs.Graham (My English teacher), Mrs. McClung (My history teacher!) and my amazing family.
Everyday gets easier and I learn to be even more thankful for the people I do have who love me. I really have learned to count my blessings. I know I still whine sometimes and I cry myself to sleep, but I know now that I can and will survive. You can and will too. I know it doesn't seem like it. But it will. It's like that one guy always says, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."
Thanks for your time. If you need to talk, feel free to contact me anytime.