A Small Piece of my Past

I took some time with this. I had to write three different things, and bring them together to get to this.

A short time ago, I was involved with a person who literally changed my life. I met him as a young, naiive girl in the ninth grade, and fell pretty damn hard. He and I had chemistry like no other. I couldn't believe how hard I fell, and that he actually liked me back. Those days seemed so flawless and perfect. To this day, I still consider that summer to be the best summer ever, but I'm waiting for new experiences to change that. Anyway, for two years, we had it all. We were in love, and I know that I truly was in love. I've got all sorts of definitions for that little four letter word, and the feelings I had for this boy were it. It was crazy, spontaneous, outrageous, frustrating, captivating, enlightening, moving, innocent.

We shared everything with each other; he was my number one confidant, as I assume I was his. We always had fun together, and were completely at ease with one another. After feeling that sensation, I'm waiting to feel it again with someone. That is beside the point though. After two years, I never stopped loving him. In fact, I loved and cared for him more with each passing day. He helped me through everything. I went through rough times, and he was there for me every step of the day. When I dealt with eating disorders, death, depression, and feeling alone, he was there for me at every moment of every day. In fact, without him, I don't know if I'd be as happy as I am today.

While I had my problems, he did as well. He struggled endlessly with depression and anxiety. This arose after I had recovered from my own problems. I think that today I understand slightly why. Nothing is more emotionally and mentally exhausting than knowing that you are the first person he will turn to when he is feeling depressed. I constantly was telling him, "No honey, its okay, I love you, please don't be sad. Remember your positive attitude." or, "Your mother doesn't hate you, she doesn't know what to do, you need to try and understand." Being someone's everything is amazing, but taxing. I feel that when he was helping me through my own problems, his depression grew even worse.

Eventually, I couldn't handle it anymore. It had gotten to the point where he didn't care about seeing me on weekends, and I felt as if I was being taken for granted. I loved him more than ever, but I know what I deserve, and I deserve someone who will fight to be with me against all odds, and he wasn't doing that. I had asked him to please understand, and he never made any effort to change through his actions. Enough was enough, and I ended things. He was shocked, heartbroken, as was I. Suddenly, my boyfriend, best friend, lover, confidant, my everything was just gone.

Things were really rough for a while and I did anything I could to distract myself from the new void. We tried to stay friends, but he couldn't do it. He stopped talking to me all together, and to this day, we still do not speak. We had one last fight, and after it happened, I realized how stupid it all was, and messaged him with an apology, telling him that I would always be here when he was ready to talk and be friends again. In all honesty, I left the ball in his court, but he never picked it up and threw it back.

He has a new girlfriend now, she's a sophomore. They've been dating for a couple of months now. When I first found out about her, I felt as if I was falling apart. I couldn't imagine him holding HER hand, kissing HER lips, his arm around HER waist. I've come to terms with all of this, and I really do hope him the best. I am jealous of this new girl, and I really hope he downgraded (the stubborn teenage girl side of me), but as long as he's happy I don't mind. And I truly do hope he is happy.

Things could have been different. When I ended things, more than anything, I just wanted him to fight for me. I didn't want him to let me slip away so easily. I wanted him to call me screaming that he loved me and that he couldn't stand it if I left. I wanted him to show up at my house with a bouquet of roses, proving me wrong on everything I had thought. I knew he didn't care anymore, and that he was done showing the effort he had shown to get me to fall for him in the first place. Everything was so different from our first year and a half together, and it broke my heart remembering all of the good times. No matter how many times I tried to explain to him why I was doing this, he never grasped it, and never ever tried to prove me wrong. I said that I was leaving and he watched me go without ever raising a pinky. That hurt. But me and my stupid pride refused to reach out. Sometimes I wonder if I was wrong.

Immediately after the break up, I started to cheer. I went to homecoming (he didn't) and to a dance the weekend after. I went with two different boys (that doesn't make me a s**t). I went out on dates, finally playing the field again for the first time in years. It took quite a bit of getting used to, but I'm happy now. Things are different. I have new friends, a lot more than I realized. I'm working, going to college, developing my own life. The best part is that I can do it without him. I wonder if I'll ever see him around again, or if he'll ever message me again. I still keep up with our old friends to see how he is doing. I miss him a lot still, but I'm ultimately happy with the way things are.

Author's Note

i apologize if it seems to run on a bit...it feels wonderful to get this off my chest though.