Loving Someone Who Can't Love You Back!

I can still remember the day I met Alex; we just connected like no other, and from day one our relationship was a whirlwind, and we kicked things off pretty hot. The two of us were virtually inseparable, even though he lived a half hour away, and neither of us owned our own car… we always found a way to be together. There was a weekend that we went camping after being together for just a month, and things were going so well. Or so I thought…

We went with another couple who were mutual friends at that point, and Alex had brought his guitar—so it was a good weekend, full of fishing and water skiing. Everyone was drinking, and just having a good time until the last night. When Alex and I were laying in the tent… he started asking me about my past, which I had already been closed off about, because I won’t lie, my childhood wasn’t the greatest. And that led to me being a party girl in my early twenties. I did a few things that I am not proud of. But I didn’t lie to him, and was very upfront, because I felt that I could trust him. However, right after I got home from camping, Alex texted me to break-up. I was literally crushed, because it wasn’t very often that I was trusting of people, and yet he broke up with me via text message… I cried in a closet so my family wouldn’t see me; to avoid judgment. But it’s okay, because it was a walk-in closet, so they didn’t suspect a thing. However, the heartache was short lived, because within a week or two Alex was calling me to say he had made a mistake, and that he was sorry. So, we started seeing each other again, but at first, I didn’t tell my mom or stepdad.

At first, I kept us being back together under wraps, because I knew what they would say. So I would meet Alex in a neighboring town for secret dates. One time he came to the gas station I was working at while it was my shift for a quick make-out session off camera. But eventually all secrets come to light and my stepfather found out… everyone in my family was calling me a moron… little did I know that they were right.

But he seemed like the nicest guy I had ever met, mixed with a little bit of bad boy, as we ran around carving our initials into things, and drinking beer as I listened to his band playing; he was the front man by the way. They weren’t famous or anything, but they were good and had a good sound. Anyways for another year and a half, we were in this whirlwind romance that spiraled. We had almost everything in common; which is probably one of the reasons why things went south. But we just couldn’t get enough of each other. Although that year and a half was a tough one.

We were basically homeless and couch surfed. It was difficult crashing on peoples couches, and we were moving every few months, but it didn’t matter, because we had each other, so therefore we always stayed upbeat. Every now and then, he would raise his voice with me but I thought nothing of it, because people are allowed to lose their cool from time to time. Finally though, after a year and a half, we finally were able to get our own place… after that things really took a turn, and Alex became someone that I really didn’t recognize.

I had quit drinking, but his drinking became over the top, and at every little thing, he would blow up. There were times when he would even put his hands on me as well. Throwing me downstairs, or into the counter. Alex even broke his phone on my face one night, and then proceeded to slam my head into our front door. Then he would say sorry and how much he loved me. It quickly became apparent that he was more than just a drunk, but also an addict… apparently, he had gotten into some different substances. So I forgave him and swore to help him, because I knew what it was like to be out of control but I couldn’t help him. Actually, I had to leave him for a week, because he bruised a few of my ribs, and broke some of my toes. But I went back, and he proposed. We were engaged for a few years, but I had to leave him because there is no helping someone who doesn’t want the help.

Not once did I scream while he hit me or tossed me around, not once did a cry in front of him either, otherwise he would hurl insults at me. And I never raised a fist to him, because I was scared that if I did I wouldn’t stop… I’ve got some built up feelings. But know this; I did love him. and I thought for a moment that we could make it work. I loved him so much that it consumed me; it hurt. But Alex was never going to be able to love until he got help, because he had problems that were deep and I just didn't see them at first.

I just thought that I would share my story. because I am sure that I am not alone, and I want others to know that they are not alone either. Men and women alike…