Only the strong survive

The future looked so bright, but only if I had know that I was slowly draining the light out of myself by being with someone who was so dark and cold.

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I shut people out. I can’t help it. It’s the very first thing I do the minute someone tries to talk to me. I want attention, then as soon as I get it I want it to go away.  I don’t know why I do this. Maybe it’s because I’ve been hurt so many times in the past I don’t want to take the risk again.Maybe time will heal that, but maybe it won’t. I think I will always have a fear of getting close to someone. Part of me is ok with that. Part of me has accepted the loneliness and the possibly that I may never get to have a happy marriage and kids that I have always wanted.  All because of one thing, him. ( I think he needs a name so I will try to refer to him as Pat from now on.) I won’t open up. Back in September, I had a boy that I really liked in one of my college classes. He liked me too and we started talking. It was great for the first couple weeks. He was everything I had dreamed of and more. He was also the first person that I told what had happened after I first came out about it. We had common interests, and wanted the same things. It seemed like I had finally found someone who got it,who got me. My mother and his mother are close friends, so therefor I knew his Mom and absolutely loved her before we even started trying to make it more. I still call her my second Mom. I really really liked him. We did things that made me feel like a normal person, someone who wasn’t abused. He treated me like I was supposed to be treated. It was all good, until he said he wasn’t over his ex, and while that very well be true, I think he was scared to get close to me. So we stopped talking. It hurt me. I liked him, I still do. I’m not mad at him. I understand.

I recently had an old friend of mine reconnect with me of Facebook. We used to be so close, then we moved schools, and never really spoke afterwords. We have talked some, but not near as much as I have wanted. And thats my fault. It’s not because my friend hasn’t tried, its because of me. The tables had turned on me. At first it was a boy I really liked got scared, and now it was me. I just can’t open up.

Its like a line from a song,” I don’t want to make up, just to fall apart again”. Pat did a number on me. Theres things I used to do that I don’t anymore. Things that I thought I had figured out, but I no longer do. Its like I’m having to start from scratch. And what really sucks about it, is I never really  knew who I was before. I don’t have anyone to compare myself too.All I have are some foggy then so vivid memories that play in my head like a slow sad song. All I have is what he said I was, but he lied about so many things so I’m pretty sure that he lied about who I was too.   So so young. It was only my second kiss. My first love. My first heartbreak.  I think the reason that I am so shut off from everyone is because I hid this “relationship” for years. I couldn’t tell anyone about it, or say anything because I didn’t want to suffer the consequences. I felt like Pat was ashamed of me. I didn’t have any friends in high school. I ate my lunch in the bathroom. I didn’t go to homecoming, prom, the sleepovers with girlfriends, the bonfires, the football games. Nothing.I lived in the shadows, but prayed for the light.  Part of me doesn’t blame Pat for that. Part of me blames myself. Then some of me blames him.

After we broke up, I got over it, at least I thought I did. I was mad. I was hurt, but also knew it was for the best. And after the first month or so I began to realize that I was much happier without him. I didn’t have to worry about if he was lying to me, who he was sleeping with while being “in love” with me, or if was going to drink and drug himself into the oblivion. I never said anything for two years. I didn’t think their was anything really wrong about it. To me it was just a relationship that had failed. It happens to everyone, even to the people who you think have it all. When I ended up saying something, I thought it was just a conversation with a friend. But it wasn’t. It was a moment that changed my life forever. Before those seven words came out of my mouth, my gut told me not to say anything, but I did. I will never know why I did right then and there. From there it was police interviews, having to tell my parents, lawyers, writing down everything that happened in great gruesome details, court days, testimonies. I’m still grieving over a life I thought I was going to have. We were engaged. (At least that what he said.) The future looked so bright, but only if I had know that I was slowly draining the light out of myself by being with someone who was so dark and cold.

At first, I didn’t believe it was the right thing to do. It felt like I had betrayed myself. I hurt his family, his daughter, I changed his life. But the truth is he did it to himself. Yes, I am the one that opened my mouth, but he committed the crimes. From the outside looking in, lots of people would say it’s not my fault, that I was just a kid. But I feel so much guilt everyday of my life its unreal. It’s slowly killing me. It’s the first thought in my head in the morning, and the last one when I go to sleep.  People say I’m getting better, but I’m so afraid that I’m falling back into the lies that I fed myself when I thought I was ok. Maybe I am getting better. Maybe its just the medication. Maybe I’m not.

I’ve heard it said “Only the strong survive”. I think thats all they do is survive. They don’t live. They are just simply too scared to. I am guilty of this.                                                                                             All I know is I don’t want to survive anymore. I want to live. It may take the rest of my life, but I’m going to live.

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