Everything about owning a blog and keeping it updated kind of scares me. People say it's like having a diary, but everyone can read it. Is that supposed to be a perk? I remember when I was in highschool the diary I kept I didn't want anyone to ever read it. Sometimes I even cringed while re-reading it. Pages were filled with the bullying and teasing people put me through through the years and the memories I wrote down weren't the things I wanted to look back and remember. Some pages were ripped or torn out with memories I wanted to forget and they made me wonder why I ever put them there in the first place. Although, not all the entries were that bad. My first crush had cameos in the small book as the days went by. Days went from being teased into a corner to spending them with the guy I thought I was going to call my first boyfriend...but I soon learned he wasn't the guy for me. He had this little thing where I would introduce him to one of my friends and the next thing I knew they would date for two or three weeks. But he always came back to me and I always forgave him. He was just so sweet I couldn't tell him to leave me alone and the fact that he was one of my only few friends was a reason I held onto him so tightly. But then there was one day where I finally built up all my courage, ready to tell him that I liked him, and asked one of my other friends to ask him how he felt about me. Super brave of me, huh? Heh. Turns out he never really did like me as more than a friend. But all the signals he sent said the exact oppisite. He'd always hold my hand, or put his arm around me, or sit so close we touched, or he would defend me when some jerk was teasing me. He made me feel special. He made me feel like someone cared about me. He made me think I wasn't going to be forever alone. He made me think my Disney fairy tale was coming true and that they actually did exist. But then he left me to go to a different high school. That tore me apart. The guy that I spent every day with was gone. Sure, I had other friends, but they just weren't the same. They tolerated me. He cared about me. For a semester, my life was a routine. I'd go to classes, have lunch with my friends, have more classes, go home, and repeat it all over again the next day. This is going to sound weird, but I don't even remember that semester of school. It's just a void experience. I blocked it all out somehow. Sometimes I try to remember at least what my class schedule was, but all I can remember is I had Spanish first period and Biology third period and the rest is just non-existant. Without him by my side, protecting me from my bullies and tormentors, helping me get through the day, making me feel wanted, everything else just kind of faded out. Sometimes it really bugs the crap out of me that I can't remember anything. I'd give almost anything to remember what that semester was like. But other times I think maybe my brain is just trying to protect me. It doesn't want me to hurt anymore and remember what happened after he left me. It just wants me to be happy.
It was kind of hard to be happy though. The principal of my school noticed I wasn't acting the same some how. She knew it was time to give me the second chance I needed. After going to the same private school for all my life and having to put up with the same classmates from Kindergarten to 10th grade can be pretty hard. You don't get that chance to start over and re-invent yourself as you would when you go to middle school and highschool because everyone already knows you. They know all your faults, your screw ups, your embarassing moments, and the worst part is they don't let you forget them. That was my problem. I had too many faults, screw ups, and embarassing moments and my peers wouldn't let me forget them. Just when I thought they were beginning to forget, someone would take the knife they had stabbed into my back and twsted it, reopening old wounds and watched me bleed. No one felt bad for me when I cried, no one came to my aid when I would fall. If I wanted to start over I'd have to go to a new school and that's exactly what I did.
From a private school to a public school in a matter of days. It scared the crap outta me. Everyone had always told me public school kids were way worse than private school kids. I was told that I needed a thicker skin or I would never survive. I'm not sure if I grew that thicker skin or if everyone who told me to be afraid were liars, but going to a public school instead of continuing to go to private was one of the best decisions I had ever made in my life. Everyone was nice to me. They all cared about me as a person, and some of the friends I made in public school have become my besties. Life had gotten better. I wasn't hiding in a corner anymore while people picked on me. I had more friends than ever before and they liked me for who I was. They told me I was the kindest, sweetest, funniest person they had ever met and they told me I must never change.
But then, he came back into my life. Turns out I transfered to the same highschool he had. I thought things could get back to a more or less normal. We were on the same campus again. We could be together again and hang out and talk and do all the things we did. But he had been going to this new school for a whole semester more than me. He had new friends who he didn't much stray away from. He was in ROTC so he was always busy with that, and him being a grade higher than me and having a completely different schedule and lunch hour didn't help either. Whether I liked it or not, the time we had spent apart made us grow apart and he realized I didn't need him much quicker than I did. He knew I was in a better place with better people who had my back. He knew I was growing up, that I didn't need him by my side even though for the first few weeks I wanted nothing more. I wanted things to go back to the way they were. I wanted him to be with me. I wanted him to realize he needed me. I wanted him to love me. But he never did. He helped me in a time when I needed him the most, but when things got better he knew I was better off without him.
Although seeing him throught the years with girlfriends (and even one who looked almost exactly like me) hurt, and even going to the same college as him and his steady girlfriend hurt even more, I finally realize that I am better off without him. He was there while I needed him. He was my Godsend. He was exactly what I needed to survive. He was the person I would do anything for. But now, it's been a few years since I last talked to him. We're not connected on friend sites and I have no clue what he's doing with his life. Which is probably for the best. He's moved on and it may have taken me a little longer than him, but so have I.
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