I was a little immature. I told him to go to hell or pay me back. Those were his two options in my mind.
Well, he deleted my blog. Something I told him that he could do at anytime as long as he gave me heads up so I could move my favorite posts over.
He didn't give me a heads up.
Three years of writing down the drain. I went through a 18 months writers block and wrote only on that site! I should've planned ahead and saved those posts somewhere else.
I think it is better that he decided to cut me off though. (Even though he still owes me a ton of money...that I sort of need right now.) I needed to be done with him.
I did not realize how shitty he treated me until I broke up with him. Almost three years of my life down the drain (and it could've been more if I stayed with him).
Why? Why did I do it?
My original conclusion was because I was settling and was comfortable with him. It was more then that.
I started thinking in to our relationship, about what we went though together. Senior year, he broke up with me. I was devastated, I cried for hours, I begged for him back. At the time, I thought it was because I loved him and that it was true love and we were meant to be together. I'm scoffing now at that ridiculous idea.
It wasn't because I loved him. (I did.) It wasn't because it was true love. (All love is true love.) It wasn't because we were meant to be together. (We weren't)
It was because I was alone. I did not have any friends. I thought I did. But where were they when I was up at oh 12:04am and tearfully writing a blog. Wondering why I was so miserable. Trying, in vain, to cheer myself up.
One night, I took a knife and clawed "BFF" in my calf. I was so mad it didn't break the skin. I wanted a best friend, a person I could turn to.
But I didn't have one.
I started thinking about why I was so desperate to get a boyfriend all my life. Was it because I was insecure? Yes. I was insecure. But why did I think getting a boyfriend would solve my insecurities?
It took me a long time to think about this and to get past crying through it. It was partially because I was insecure because I was naked. Yes, naked.
My past stripped my clothes and then burnt them. When I was 13 years old, I was just entering learning the knowledge of my sexuality and two events happened to me that will forever shape my life.
One, a close family member misused my trust. I will leave it at that.
Two, I was sexually harassed by students in my art class.
These events are probably forgotten by the people of my past. They are little things that they do not have to deal with everyday.
But I have to deal with it everyday. Even if I am unaware of it.
Why was I in such a rush to get a boyfriend? To lose my 'virginity'?
To prove to myself that I wasn't what those people told me they were. I did not know this at the time, but I was fighting with my sub-conscious the whole time.
Even when I did not want it, when I wanted to wait, I would let men use me. Because that is what "straight pretty girls do" and that is what I wanted to be.
But at the lowest times of my self esteem, I wondered if I was really straight, if maybe those people could see something in me that I couldn't. Those times I was naked and I wanted to hide.
I'm not ashamed of being naked anymore. I want everyone to know what happens in schools, I want people to realize who they are, and on their own time but maybe with my help.
Sometimes I think of suicide. I go work out it gives me a better outlook on life. It is always going to be an option for me, though lately, the option has not come to me as frequently.
If I am having a hard day, I tell myself it is not a stop sign, it is a sign to keep going. It really works, telling yourself that. If it doesn't I imagine what it would be to find some I love dead. I don't know why anyone I love would want to find me dead. That scares it out of me.
I will not let men use me anymore. But I will never blame the men who used me because it is not their fault that I went through what I went through. This is one of the only times, where the victim is to blame.
Someday, I want to write about what happened to me. I saved all my poems I wrote during that time and I want to put together a book about it.
Why do I want things that horrible to go public?
Easy.
1) I am never alone. And there are people like me, all around the world.
2) I will always deal with these events. Always. I thought after (place life event here) that I would forget about it and move on. But I won't. It is getting easier and easier to deal with. But my mind will always have that little sub-conscious thought.
3) The bullies have moved on. Do they even remember? Will they ever remember? This is NOT about making them pay. It is about reminding them (all bullies) that what they said and did may have impacted someones lives longer then that month, day, year it happened. It has been SIX YEARS for me and I think about it EVERYDAY. Why should they be able to go on with the rest of there lives scottfree?
4)It's therapy. I really believe that after I am done complying this that I will be able to deal with my emotions better.
Wow. I didn't think I would write that much and about all that. Hopefully it makes sense, when it comes down to it though, it's not about making sense, it is about understanding what I went through.
It is sad though. My current best friend doesn't know about any of this and unless she reads this, she probably never will.
I got my best friend now and I can't even tell her what I went through.
I have never been able to tell the whole story to anyone.
Which is reason number 5 of why I am going to MUST compile this book.
To finally, face the facts and live up to my past. Because if I don't admit it outloud then I will never get better.
"I am a victim because..."
Someday I will be able to finish that sentence.
It is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I couldn't even type it. The reasoning, I sat there and looked at it. If I say it, I will admit it. If I admit it, I have to deal with it. The people in my life have to deal with it. I am not ready to deal with it, the people in my life are not ready to deal with it.
So I won't finish it. At least, not for now.
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