Forgiveness

Hi, my name is generic girl who's taken her cheating boyfriend back. I'm glad we got that out of the way, but honestly, I can't speak for every girl, just myself. So if you're interested in listening to me whine stick by me.

I met my current boyfriend in High school, not as lovers but friends at first. I was dating this other guy when we met, and I actually had interest in his best friend. I know, I'm gross. He was a year younger than me but my friends had taken a liking to him. We smiled and said our hellos and I felt nothing. I just turned back to my then boyfriend and continued our conversation. I didn't start to feel anything until 3 boyfriends and a virginity loss later. He had gotten older, bolder, stronger. My attraction to him was slow at first until we began to date, when he kissed me; it was like the world stopped for two seconds and my mind said "its HIM". I ignored it because as a teen with severe depression and divorced parents, I didn't believe in love. And he did not show me love until a breakup later. And we did that twice, breakup I mean. Usually over his decision to be an asshole and also because he was younger than me and not ready for a real relationship. But still I loved him, I loved him more than I understood and my friends disagreed. They hated to see me so sad, so torn over this...boy. Yet I stayed and flash forward 3 years later I found myself shattered.

To fully understand me you must know what it was like in his love. Its beautiful. Its like suddenly every bit of love I thought I missed out on as a child came rushing back to me. It was like he knew me better than I knew myself, he loved me, really loved me. With him, I was always smiling always laughing, a never-ending loop of happiness.

So when I think back to that day, that night, it's like licking a broken mirror, I lose words. In simple terms, he cheated on me. Period. No, he didn't have sex with another woman (to my knowledge) but he did get intimate with her with a series of kisses. I won't go into the painful details but I will tell you that she was an ex from the past, she's crazy and he spent a total of four days in her company. Four days.

Shit. Sometimes I wonder how did I become this person, how did I become this girl who tells strangers on the internet her personal pains? How can I still love him like nothing is wrong? He lies a lot, I mean A LOT. I don't know why he lies but he just does and I always catch him. It's like he cant lie to me. But for four days I didn't, I didn't catch him. God this is hard, harder than I thought. I keep avoiding the point of this entire post and I have no words as to why. I guess I'm scared, the more I acknowledge it the more real it becomes.

You see those four days, they seem like a bad dream, a nightmare that stuck to my subconscious slowly making its way to my daily consciousness. I remember him admitting it, head bowed, eyes watering. Then I felt my heart race, my teeth clenched and my hand flew. I struck him, slapped him so hard the red was bright on his caramel cheek. I was more than angry and I started screaming, how could he? I loved him, I fed him, clothed him, my family threw him his first birthday party, gave him his first real Christmas, showed him what a family is. We loved him, I LOVED him. It was like someone was kicking my stomach and I lost all air. Clenching the wire fence to my left I fell to the floor and sobbed harder than I ever had. Harder than the moment I watched my father board that plane to Iraq, harder than hearing of my father's infidelity, harder than learning that same man wasn't actually my father but a stepdad, harder than learning my real father didn't love me, harder than the days of suicidal thoughts. It was like my entire relationship was a lie, it was all a ruse.

My friends always ask me "when will it be enough, when will you stop letting him hurt you?" I always said when he cheats. Ive always vowed to never stay with someone after that. That there was no way I would embarrass myself like that, I wouldn't succumb to the same misery my mother did with my fathers. Never. When it happened my best friend listened, she didn't judge she just listened. When I finished she just looked at me and said "I will never tell you to leave him, he makes you so happy but I have to ask, when is enough, enough? When will you stop letting him do this to you?". I looked at her with no answer.

I know, you're wondering what's the big deal? A few kisses? So what. But its more than that, its the history, it's the moments I don't of, the way he kissed her and if he liked it. If he thought of me or didn't. It's looking back on three years and searching for my imperfections, it is him making me feel inadequate after he helped build me up. Its like he gave me my life back only to steal it away. I know I've said this already but I loved him. So much so, I was willing to accept him each time he left and came back. I was willing to forgive him for everything he said and did. Even when I felt like he didn't deserve me I stayed because I knew that there would never be another person I loved as much as I loved him. It's sad really, but its life.

After crying out my entity I slowly got back up and walked home. He followed and instead of going home I went to a near by diner for a cup of hot chocolate. I hate coffee.

He sat across from me and I ordered him a coffee. It took a lot but I eventually worked up the courage to ask the question.

"why?"

He just looked up and me, opened his mouth and instead of words he let out a breath of air before crying uncontrollably. the waitress came over to ask if everything was alright and I didn't answer. She walked away and I just stared at him. He was crying so hard and I had never seen him cry like that. He only ever cried in front of me once, this was confusing. Why was he crying? Ultimately he explained himself, explained how he felt nothing most days, how he didn't think of me and only himself. How he thought his life was meaningless and how he felt like the world was moving so fast but he was stuck in slow motion.

I drowned him out, I was angrier than before, pissed at him for sounding like me when I was sixteen. I was angry for understanding, for not throwing my hot chocolate on him, for not hating him but feeling sad for him.

For those of you not following, he had symptoms of depression. He sobbed and told me he didn't know what was wrong with him. But I knew, I knew because I had been there, I've experienced what done to me except I was the perpetrator not the victim. I decided in that moment to be there, not as his girlfriend but as a friend, a confidant. I was someone who could understand what he was going through more than he did. I chose to do this because I remember what it was like for me, I was so alone back then and all I ever wanted was someone to be there for me. It seems like a shitty excuse to hurt people but you never actually want to hurt anyone, just suppress your own pain with the pleasures of others. I agreed to be there for him as long as he went to therapy, where they diagnosed him with depression and gave him a weekly schedule. We kept in contact and he began to grow.

But things started to feel too comfortable, too normal and I ended things. I ended them because I was so focused on fixing him that I didn't fix myself. I was still hurting still questioning who I was. I was disgusted with myself and him. How could I let him do this? How could I look into his brown eyes and only feel love? I had to let him go but everything reminded me of him. I thought about him constantly so I decided to talk to him, to let out everything I ever felt, to show him what he had done.

It took time but I learned to forgive and when my mother kicked me out and I had nowhere to go he opened his home up to me. He held me all those nights I cried and took care of me after every anxiety attack. He rocked me to sleep when I wanted to kill myself and loved me when I thought no one else did. He was there for me with zero questions and spent so many moments taking care of me when I was at my worst. Its been almost a year now and we've changed significantly. He's so open and focused, driven to keep me in his life. I guess the point of this was to prove a point, that my love triumphs his transgressions. I know now that unfortunately I will never permanently leave this man. its sad and disappointing, some might even say its not very feminist but I said it a thousand times already, I love him and I will always.

So the next time someone ask me when will enough be enough I don't think I could answer properly. Simply because it isn't that simple. You may think I'm stupid and giving terrible advice but I'm not giving advice at all just telling my story. We shouldn't be so quick to tear one another down based on their life choices. We wont ever know how to react until we experience it ourselves. Life after heartbreak isn't always so black and white, a loss that turns into a win. I was given a test of faith in my love, he was given a test of change. I think in the end we both learned more about one another than the three years we already were together.

Love is more than perfection and I think so many people have got it all mixed up. Forgiveness is one of the most important aspects of a relationship because without it there is no trust and no compromise. We have to learn to forgive but not forget, forgive and learn from one another instead of pretending life is this perfect storybook. Relationships are hard, not love so learning to push past your worst problems is what's important not what others may think or say. Do what you believe is best for you.