“I hope you find someone who calms the storm within your soul.” – R.H. Sin
In the beginning we were so broke it wasn’t even funny. I had been working at the same place since I was 14, and after I graduated I thought I needed more “me time” before college started. Plus, there was this really cute boy waiting for me at home, and I didn’t want to keep him waiting. I quit that job with hardly anything to my name, and he was living like a gypsy before we got together. We always made it though, somehow we found ways to get money together for gas, or a pack of cigarettes. We were just being irresponsible kids, and we had a blast doing it. Life before the real world, and bills, began.
We had a fantastic group of friends, and we all got together and spent nights aimlessly talking around a bonfire, camping, or playing drinking games. None of us got much sleep back then, if we did it was from 8am till 5pm, and we would get up and start again. I don’t remember any other time in my life when things were so carefree and amazing. He and I were living the high life, and it didn’t matter what came our way, or how broke we were, because we had each other.
As the months passed and adulting started to become mandatory, I got a part-time job while I was going to school full-time, and he got a full-time job at a factory. It was pretty great, gave us some time to be apart and miss each other, while having the money to go out and do things on the weekends. We never argued about where to go for dinner, or what movie to go see. Our heads were always in the same place, going the same direction. Not to mention, the sex was absolutely mind-blowing. Like our bodies matched up, and every time we had sex, it was like Christmas. I’d never had more orgasms, or had more fun in bed than I did with him. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner, in more ways than one.
There was one hurdle, that no matter how hard we tried, we could not get over. I could never get him to let his guard down and let me all the way in emotionally, and I was still having trouble controlling my temper. There were nights that we would lay in bed talking about life, and as soon as I would bring up a deep subject, I could feel him withdrawing from the conversation. His childhood wasn’t all puppies and rainbows either, and he suffered the consequences of the things his mother put him through. I’m sure growing up with a diagnosed bipolar mom was never the ideal situation, and he was her favorite puppet to play with. He learned very early in life how to keep himself from getting too hurt, and how to keep his emotions on lock. I didn’t find out until some time after our breakup how much he really loved me, and how deep I actually cut him. I, on the other hand, couldn’t control my mouth if my life depended on it. If I was hurt, or offended, in any way shape of form, I would attack. I didn’t have any hesitation in going straight for the throat every single time. Saying whatever I could to hurt the most, using his past against him, it was second nature. Add that to the million things I regret.
This guy ment everything to me, and even now, almost 6 years later, my heart still aches. The last year of our relationship was something out of a dramatic horror movie. At least that was the way it felt, like everyday was a slow motion nightmare. I’d love to say that I grew stronger after that year was said and done, but it wrecked my head & my heart. Living through the series of events that defined the rest of my life was tough, and healing those wounds takes time, forgiveness, and prayer.