Exes

Distant memories; something we've all dealt with in our lives. If you haven't, likely you're going to at some point. Exes of our past remain in our minds regardless of whether or not we're thinking about them. Just because we think about them doesn't mean we're not over them, because in reality, they're major parts of who we are as individuals. Every breakup is different, whether its mutual, nasty, or blindsiding. Each of us has an ex we still dwell on, and each of us have some sort of emotion we feel whenever we see our exes either in public or on social media. Lust, jealousy, hatred, anger, sadness. In reality, we must ask ourselves one thing; do we ever truly get over our exes? Or do we tuck them into the back pocket of our minds until our memories are struck when we come across them again in the bottom of the washing machine?

For me, I keep every one of my exes, the long-term ones anyways, in the back of my pocket, and from time to time, I do dwell on those romantic people who impacted my life in ways they'll likely never know.

Aubry was my first real relationship. I met her online through Facebook, and we instantly began chatting. I was "fresh" out of the closet as bisexual. Naturally, we were both equally nervous. November 18th, 2015 was the day we started talking, and November 23rd, I finally got the courage to ask her to be mine after spending 8 hours and falling asleep together on the phone. We were together 8 months, until another soul's heart got her attention. Our relationship wasn't perfect, as nobody's ever is, and I can't say I truly loved her like I should've, but she meant a lot to me and she truly stayed in my spirit.

I was no stranger to the ways of people, and after getting heartbroken by Aubry, I remained single for a while, doing my own thing. On warm summer days or days after school, the Church Courts were always the fallback place to sit and chill with friends or just shoot hoops. All of us hung out there, but for me it held a deeper meaning. It was where I met my first love; Emmalee. It was my second time dating a girl, and for me, I was still fairly new to it all. She was playing basketball, and I was there with an acquaintance, Crystal. From the moment I saw her, I knew I had to make her mine, somehow someway. I immediately asked Crystal who she was, and although she didn't know her name, Crystal disappointed me by breaking me the news she had a girlfriend. (She didn't have a girlfriend).

After that game, to my avail, the stranger but also great-looking girl walked past me, and instantly those butterflies and anxiety hit me like a wave. She offered me a cigarette, which was likely her way of flirting with me. A few months went by, and randomly I get a friend request from someone on Facebook. Emmalee was this stranger's name. She remembered me, and we began talking. The first time I heard her voice was at the South School park. Meeting up with her, but getting caught by my mom. Goddamn, it was so worth it. Although my mom finally found out I was bisexual, it was far from the end of Emmalee and I's story. Walking past my house with her brother in the middle of the night as I sat on my porch, just to see me. Sneaking over in my driveway to sneak a couple kisses before saying goodnight. Ironically, she spent that summer directly down the street. At first, I was scared of being myself, scared of being bisexual, scared of my mom's judgement. Us sneaking around and meeting up at different places, hiding around; it wasn't what I wanted, but just seeing her was the matter of the fact. The night I skipped 5 Quarter (a after football-party) just to spend time with her; we laid out on the concrete basketball court at Church Courts after hours, and love sparked a second time; staying out staring at starlight with her, running away whenever the church bus pulled in the driveway. Walking down the streets of Vandalia at night with her and Joseph, joking around, life didn't seem so bad.

Whenever she and I were together, I felt proud to be myself. I felt proud being a bisexual individual. I didn't care anymore what anyone thought, and she helped me become proud of my sexuality. We fell off the end of that summer; she'd be going home and I would be going about my way. In April of this year, we reconnected again, or tried to, but nothing gold can stay. Not a day goes by that I don't think about her, and regardless of the terms & conditions, she still remains in my heart, truly.

The first time a boy actually paid attention to me was when I met Dylan in Algebra 1. Everyday, he'd go get me our papers or pencils or whatever we needed to get, and he was the first friend I had at Mexico High School. He was so dorky and adorable, and each of his friends were too. Allie, Alexis, Hannah, Sarah, Sebastion, even Kaitlyn. I loved them all. When Dylan & I began dating, he was everything I could ever want and more. He was the only guy that didn't break my heart. I made a mistake, and out of fear I broke up with him and left him for what I thought would be better. It hurt him, and it turned our friends against me, to the point of violence. After realizing what I'd done, I attempted to make it right, and Dylan and I got back together, which didn't help the situations occurring at all. Eventually, we mutually agreed that it'd be best if we just remained friends, to which it simmered into silence. Just recently have we reconnected, trying to repair our friendship.

Lastly, was the most heartbreak I've felt. I met Zach through a mutual friend, and I thought he was amazing. We went on a date; walking around Walmart shit-talking the kiddie toys. By the 80s movies, Zach asked me to be his, and with his words did he swoon my heart. And with ending our day sitting on the edge of the water at Lakeview park, we became lovers. March 12th, the best and worst day of my life occurred. My favorite band, Motionless In White, was playing at the Blue Note, and I went with Zach. If only there was a way to explain how much that concert meant to me. I had the greatest time of my life, and I fell in love that night. Not with Zach, but with that moment. Driving around with him, listening to Suicide Boys because he liked it, supporting his dream of wanting to be a rock singer, watching all the stupid Fortnite gameplay videos. He couldn't deal with me having social anxiety; tried changing me and forced me to put on a smile, shove my anxiety down my throat, and play pretend. Going to the head shop with his best friend Troy, he was upset because my job called me to discuss my submission and to get it edited, which is why we broke up. I was "too anti-social." He belittled, humiliated me, and shoved me into my driveway out of his car.

In conclusion, love isn't always what we hope it to be. People cheat, lie, and manipulate, but no matter how badly a person hurts you, forgiveness is the greater strength, not for them, but for yourself.