Sequel: Everything After ›
Status: Life in Progress
Notes on Heartbreak
Our story
I became a cougar in tenth grade. Okay, that's an overstatement, but he was only a freshman after all. In a period of my life in which it seemed as though all my friends had boyfriends or the attention of a boy, I was desperate for someone to love me. I am hard to please, easily bored, and constantly in need of validation. He stuck around, every time I told him we were done, every time I ended up with someone else at a party. He came to my locker during school with chocolates on valentines day, I went to a party that night and forgot all about his generosity. He told me I was perfect, I told him he was boring. He was a closet douche, every one in the school knew it, but to me he was the sweetest boy in the world. He never told me, but I knew he loved me. It was never a question to him, and it was never real to me.
Fast forward one year and I have significantly matured. It always amazed me how mature he was from the start; he knew what he wanted, and how to express what he felt. In a way he was always so much smarter than me, more intelligent and intellectual. He wasn't fooled by the system, never fell into the pattern of the stereotypical teenage boy that was supposed to fuck and fuck over everything in its path. Around him his life was crumbling. I knew I loved him when that was the only thing I wanted to tell him as he cried. I knew I was scared as shit of getting hurt when I realized I loved him more than I loved myself. I rebelled, broke free, fell back into my old ways. He left.
Like magnets, we came together again. I had missed the consistency of having someone every moment, and had he just missed me. Stronger than ever, we became real. I found that it is the best- and worst- moment in your life when you realize that your own happiness is solely dependent on the happiness of another person. You realize you're no longer alone, you will always have something despite whatever else is happening. He was my constant, my rock solid, my support and comfort. He was my best friend. I was toxic...I still am. I am made of poisonous words, empty threats, and a shitty conscience. I pushed, but every time I did so he just pulled me in tighter. Each time I questioned my intentions, my actions so lacking of the love I knew I felt. I realized it was simply who I am, I am a very hard person to love. I now understand that, and I now see why he left again.
Fast forward one year and I have significantly matured. It always amazed me how mature he was from the start; he knew what he wanted, and how to express what he felt. In a way he was always so much smarter than me, more intelligent and intellectual. He wasn't fooled by the system, never fell into the pattern of the stereotypical teenage boy that was supposed to fuck and fuck over everything in its path. Around him his life was crumbling. I knew I loved him when that was the only thing I wanted to tell him as he cried. I knew I was scared as shit of getting hurt when I realized I loved him more than I loved myself. I rebelled, broke free, fell back into my old ways. He left.
Like magnets, we came together again. I had missed the consistency of having someone every moment, and had he just missed me. Stronger than ever, we became real. I found that it is the best- and worst- moment in your life when you realize that your own happiness is solely dependent on the happiness of another person. You realize you're no longer alone, you will always have something despite whatever else is happening. He was my constant, my rock solid, my support and comfort. He was my best friend. I was toxic...I still am. I am made of poisonous words, empty threats, and a shitty conscience. I pushed, but every time I did so he just pulled me in tighter. Each time I questioned my intentions, my actions so lacking of the love I knew I felt. I realized it was simply who I am, I am a very hard person to love. I now understand that, and I now see why he left again.