This summer is almost over. The summer to begin my 21st year living in this town, in the same house, with my same roommates aka family but aka roommates.
I love the summer, and I began the summer as I always do, enthralled by the longer days and warm breezes and reeling in outdoor activities that turn into nights of fuzzy stars and bare legs and shoulders. I love the summertime.
But it is about to end, and I am contemplating how I got here. Not because it flew by because I began the summer on one of the highest highs Ive ever felt in my life. I began the summer by turning 21 and I hadnt felt so much hope for myself in a very long time. I had plans to be healthy and happy and proactive and i got drug down by something. and i plan on finding out what. So far down I felt insane madness, extreme depression, and filth and disgust in myself. I began the summer worshiping the lights in myself that i wanted to set fire to, but I somehow missed their growth and their ignition and now all i have is ash and dust.
June started with me breaking up with boyfriend. And I had never felt more happy and empowered about my decision. I felt like I was taking care of myself. The honest truth about our relationship is hard to write and hard to think of, because whatever is the crux or cause of our turmoil and troubles seems to lie in my disagreement with who and what he is, but now I understand that I am not wrong for this, because who and what he is is not someone who can be in a relationship with someone like me. I am not trying to say I am better, I am trying to understand how to say that I have felt betrayed and manipulated in a million different ways that I cannot even begin to argue or contest to, because he thought he was carrying on conversation, while I felt like I was being destroyed and undervalued and completely fucked over considering…well how intelligent i am. I deserved better but I didnt want better for myself I wanted good…I wanted what felt good. It always gelt good and it never felt right.
This man is incredible and inspiring and beautiful in his own right like we all are, but I love him most because he is complicated and he needed me to listen to him to figure him out and I did in my soul so quickly but I never admitted to myself what I had found out. that he was all sorts of wrong for what I need and deserve from love….not from people or a relationship…just love. It was never reassuring or infinite or confident or self-less or easy… it was manipulative. and i lied to myself and convinced my soul that i could make him different, that i can earn him… and I loved him even more for that exact reason, that loving him and winning him would give me purpose. I had manipulated myself to understand that he was what i needed. And I cannot even begin to express the manipulation I felt… how I contributed endless compassion and caring and he took what he wanted and left it where he wanted and picked it up where he wanted. he made me feel so small and in constant competition with the women and friends around me. he made me a feign. It was my first real love and so much of it was bullshit, instead of true understanding at the core. But after two years of being together, you grow together and you take all of the obstacles you overcome and you say that that is the relationship, despite the relationship being built upon me lying to myself to make it work and his give or take about my existence and self-respect.
And i feel all of this all of the time. So before my 21st birthday I broke up with him (the third attempt to break up officially with the guy). I was making plans to become the woman I wanted to be and the the woman I wanted to be was a woman who knew better than give her life to man who did not respect her and or invest in her with his thoughts, emotions, and actions. Although, I felt I knew that that was the right decision, love is an enigma to me that I so desperately ache for and how to recover from this was unknown to me. I knew I needed to feel the sadness and express what i knew about the relationship, but I didnt at the time. All I knew was that this wasnt true love and I couldnt afford to spend anymore of my youth and time trying to fix a round peg into a square hole. i wanted to be young and feel young and not feel so weighted and somber about love that was not love.
Soon there after (two days) I was invited by a man I met the week before to go out to his town and hang with him. This was an opportunity I would have normally had to turn down if I was in a relationship, but I wasnt so i went. And I did and it was adventurous and spontaneous of me, especially as a very romantic, manogomous person I was kind of terrified but also extremely empowered by my new take on life… to do whatever my 21 year old ass wanted. I wanted to explore and have a fun time with someone I didnt know i wanted to maybe kiss someone knew and forget the lips that had been kissing me so sweetly and destroying me in so many many words. But after drinks and kisses there was sex. And I regretted it and it was terrible and useless to me. It didnt have any trust or connection or touch. And I stayed at the man’s house for the entire weekend to try to develop a romantic connection to justify what I had did… and I didnt get one. he was not my boyfriend and now all i wanted was my boyfriend. so a week later I called him. And we started up again, renewed by the secrecy of our relationship from our friends and the casualness of what we were doing because we were jaded and just trying to have fun instead of being in relationship with one another. And then one night at 2 am he went through my phone and discovered I had made plans with another man. I confessed to everything, every last detail. And so began july and entire month of weeping.
We fought, almost everyday. And I sobbed so hard i completely lossed my soul. It felt like I had coughed up breath and hope and love every time. and he berated me, and attacked every portion of who i am and I told myself everytime that i deserved it and that i wanted it in order to earn him back…because clearly he was so good and i was so bad. and then one night he struck me. and it happened. it fucking happened. something that i have always believed to be so dishonorable happened on MY cheek. and when he did it i didnt regret him doing it. I thought i deserved it to win him back. He was terrible about it. and explained how and why i deserved it. and the summer went like that for about another week until he apologized deeply for putting me through hell. and i apologized ten fold for putting him through his.
I still need myself. I am so tired and so over this bullshit. But when i look at relationships i have to make things right. he leaves in a month and despite everything i know that we share memories and i have told him that we are going to sort everything out between our souls. but i know he lacks the qualities to discuss and listen to what i have to say. there will never be peace…but in a month can’t i just get a little bit closer to that for us? i doubt it… so again, i am still doing what feels good not what feels right.
why do i do this?