Status: Will update as often as possible (:
City of Love
Running
The fights were getting worse. I hit him. I didn't mean to, it just happened. I couldn't remember a day I didn't end it in tears. He never laid a hand on me, but I hit him. I could never think straight. I grew angry and upset over the littlest things. Mom thought we were going to kill each other. But we were in love.
We were high school sweethearts. I'd loved him since junior year when he was a senior and the star wrestler. We were inseparable. We had so many firsts together. He was my first serious, long-term boyfriend. He took my virginity (he said I took his, but I'm not naïve). There was a time we thought I was pregnant fall of my senior year. We took a trip together over spring break. I loved his family and he loved mine. Life was picture perfect for 4 years. I'm 20 years old now, and going crazy. I've been with a man who didn't make me happy anymore.
He really hadn't made me happy since I graduated and moved away with him. We moved to New York City so he could try to make it big as a wrestler. His trainers didn't put him on the pedestal that he was on in high school. They'd treated him like the newby who was too cocky for his own good. He knew not to give his two cents to his trainers. But that didn't stop him from screaming at me every day after I worked for 18 hours a day. His training was squeezing our only income, my pay check, until it was bone dry. We had a depressing apartment with depressing food and a sorry excuse for furniture. Things were so depressing, I never let my mom come visit us. I didn't want her to see the way I was living.
Things didn't get seriously bad until his trainers dropped him. He had come into the gym hung over one morning and they had a zero-tolerance for alcohol. He was furious. He would threaten to leave me if I didn't meet his sexual needs every night. After six months of pure drunkenness, he realized he was an alcoholic and sought help. Things were looking up except he still didn't have a job. After another four months, he finally got one being a motivational trainer at a local gym. Basically he just yelled at people while they worked out to make them keep working. It was then that he started sleeping around. I of course, didn't find out until a girl with enough plastic surgery to piss off some save-the-planet activists, had stopped by our apartment to bring him his wallet and wifebeater back. He was in the shower, so I answered the door. It was not a fun day.
After too many of situations like this, I finally left. I packed up all of my personal belongings and left. I told my mom I was leaving him a few days in advance and she bought me a plane ticket to come home. I didn't leave him a note or any sign of where I was going. It was Christmas Eve and a severe winter storm had delayed all of my dreams of getting miles away from him. I was stuck at the airport for 4 hours until I just went to sleep. It didn't look like we were getting out of their any time soon. I got as comfortable as someone could get in an airport waiting area, and slept the best sleep I had gotten for over a year.
I woke up to a phone consistently ringing a little ringtone that made me think of twitter. I knew it wasn't mine because I left mine at the apartment so he wouldn't call me or try to track me. I opened my eyes to a man who was too skinny and tall for his own good. He was sitting in the next seat over from the chair my legs had been curled up in. He was wearing a dark grey beanie, a blue-plaid shirt with a black jacket over it, dark skinny jeans, and knock-off toms. He was on his phone but I noticed he was ignoring every little notification that popped up at the top of his screen. I thought maybe he was playing a game, but he was typing. Then came the humming. I just watched him out of pure annoyance. I was here trying to catch some sleep and this jackass is causing as much noise as possible. I was too pissed off at him to pay any attention to how handsome he was. His plaid shirt was a button-up with a few unbuttoned at the top. He had a long tattoo on his chest. I didn't have enough visual access to read it. He suddenly looked over at me and stopped everything he was doing.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?" he asked. It was sincere and gentle, but I was again too pissed off to acknowledge that detail.
"Yeah, you did. Do you mind keeping it down?" I snarled. I slightly adjusted my body and closed my eyes again. The chirps didn't stop ringing and he still hummed. They were just softer. Before I could fall asleep again, there was an announcement over the intercom.
"Flight #2001 is now available for flying. All passengers for Flight #2001 please go to boarding. Flight #2001 for Kansas."
I groaned and sat up. As I was putting my shoes back on and getting my things together, so was Mr. Phone-w
We were high school sweethearts. I'd loved him since junior year when he was a senior and the star wrestler. We were inseparable. We had so many firsts together. He was my first serious, long-term boyfriend. He took my virginity (he said I took his, but I'm not naïve). There was a time we thought I was pregnant fall of my senior year. We took a trip together over spring break. I loved his family and he loved mine. Life was picture perfect for 4 years. I'm 20 years old now, and going crazy. I've been with a man who didn't make me happy anymore.
He really hadn't made me happy since I graduated and moved away with him. We moved to New York City so he could try to make it big as a wrestler. His trainers didn't put him on the pedestal that he was on in high school. They'd treated him like the newby who was too cocky for his own good. He knew not to give his two cents to his trainers. But that didn't stop him from screaming at me every day after I worked for 18 hours a day. His training was squeezing our only income, my pay check, until it was bone dry. We had a depressing apartment with depressing food and a sorry excuse for furniture. Things were so depressing, I never let my mom come visit us. I didn't want her to see the way I was living.
Things didn't get seriously bad until his trainers dropped him. He had come into the gym hung over one morning and they had a zero-tolerance for alcohol. He was furious. He would threaten to leave me if I didn't meet his sexual needs every night. After six months of pure drunkenness, he realized he was an alcoholic and sought help. Things were looking up except he still didn't have a job. After another four months, he finally got one being a motivational trainer at a local gym. Basically he just yelled at people while they worked out to make them keep working. It was then that he started sleeping around. I of course, didn't find out until a girl with enough plastic surgery to piss off some save-the-planet activists, had stopped by our apartment to bring him his wallet and wifebeater back. He was in the shower, so I answered the door. It was not a fun day.
After too many of situations like this, I finally left. I packed up all of my personal belongings and left. I told my mom I was leaving him a few days in advance and she bought me a plane ticket to come home. I didn't leave him a note or any sign of where I was going. It was Christmas Eve and a severe winter storm had delayed all of my dreams of getting miles away from him. I was stuck at the airport for 4 hours until I just went to sleep. It didn't look like we were getting out of their any time soon. I got as comfortable as someone could get in an airport waiting area, and slept the best sleep I had gotten for over a year.
I woke up to a phone consistently ringing a little ringtone that made me think of twitter. I knew it wasn't mine because I left mine at the apartment so he wouldn't call me or try to track me. I opened my eyes to a man who was too skinny and tall for his own good. He was sitting in the next seat over from the chair my legs had been curled up in. He was wearing a dark grey beanie, a blue-plaid shirt with a black jacket over it, dark skinny jeans, and knock-off toms. He was on his phone but I noticed he was ignoring every little notification that popped up at the top of his screen. I thought maybe he was playing a game, but he was typing. Then came the humming. I just watched him out of pure annoyance. I was here trying to catch some sleep and this jackass is causing as much noise as possible. I was too pissed off at him to pay any attention to how handsome he was. His plaid shirt was a button-up with a few unbuttoned at the top. He had a long tattoo on his chest. I didn't have enough visual access to read it. He suddenly looked over at me and stopped everything he was doing.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?" he asked. It was sincere and gentle, but I was again too pissed off to acknowledge that detail.
"Yeah, you did. Do you mind keeping it down?" I snarled. I slightly adjusted my body and closed my eyes again. The chirps didn't stop ringing and he still hummed. They were just softer. Before I could fall asleep again, there was an announcement over the intercom.
"Flight #2001 is now available for flying. All passengers for Flight #2001 please go to boarding. Flight #2001 for Kansas."
I groaned and sat up. As I was putting my shoes back on and getting my things together, so was Mr. Phone-w