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Ah, relationships. I've had so much practice with those. Starting back from middle school, even though those things don't really count, you still learn from every person you deal with. It's all about trial and error.
I can't tell you how unlucky in love I was when I first started getting into REAL relationships. With my first real boyfriend, he was an absolute train-wreck. I'm talking super insecure, super emotional, if I wanted to date a bitch I would've gotten one type of thing. He was a master manipulator, good at making me feel bad over everything. I couldn't wear a certain kind of bathing suit, I couldn't dress a certain way, no one could talk to me, needed my passwords for everything... yeah, he was a fucking mess, but it was my first time thinking I was in love. It was a 3-year on-and-off thing. I thought I was gonna be with him forever. We even lost our virginity's to each other. Blah, blah, long story short, I left him, moved on. He did that "threaten to kill himself" thing. I still left. Deuce.
Second runner-up, my first real heartbreak. We met right after I graduated high school. You were very persistent. Things were great at first, then we slowly grew apart. I wouldn't hear from you in days, you never wanted to hear about how I felt, you were never around when I was going through personal things. Everyone has a breaking point and I just got tired, so I ended the relationSHIT. I didn't want to, I truly did love you, but you just weren't there. I felt like I was in a relationship with someone who was becoming a stranger to me. Apparently, me breaking up with you was your heartbreak. We stood in contact after, were still trying to make things work, then one day you disappeared, again, but it wasn't how it was before. It was you going missing for weeks at a time. I was at a party, a Halloween party actually, when I got the news. You were messing with someone else. My heart dropped. In my head, I'm thinking, "You were just telling me that you loved me, we were in the process of getting back together, and now you're with someone else?" I was furious. I called you as soon as I heard and you just denied, denied, denied. I should've walked away then, but my love is unconditional, unfortunately, so I still tried to make things work.
Fast forward to some time later...
Things were really rocky between us. There was one summer night that I came over your house, things happened, whatever, you left me... stranded, in the rain, just so that you can go hang with your stupid ass friends. I was alone, late at night, on a bench, crying. There were some people who saw me stranded and came outside to give me a blanket and an umbrella. Time is just ticking as I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to get home, then boom. Your parents pull over and ask me if I'm okay and if I needed a ride. They didn't even know that you and I were a thing. I wanted to tell them so bad how their son was a stupid piece of shit, but I hid my face in shame and said that I was okay. Thankfully a friend came to pick me up a couple hours later.
Fast forward again.
It was a month or so later and I had just gotten back from a family trip to Florida. I was feeling off during the end of the trip. I just thought I was sick or something, whatever, shit happens. I'm not immune to all the yucky shit in the world. This was different, though. This was the "I missed my period" kind of sick. Yup, you guessed it. I was pregnant. I cried, and cried, and cried. I called someone I was close with at the time, who just so happened to be close with him, too. I told him about what happened and he was in shock and was trying to calm me down. I wasn't even going to tell my ex at the time. I was going to deal with it on my own 'cause I genuinely wanted NOTHING to do with him, but he convinced me. I called you, showed you the positive tests, and you just didn't really care. You just asked, "What are we gonna' do about it?" I told you I didn't need your fucking help, money wise. I just needed emotional support. While I was dealing with it all, you were out, going to parties, going on dates, chilling with your friends, while I was miserable. I felt so low. I felt like nothing was ever going to get better. I was depressed.
A month or two went by when I went to the bathroom and saw clumps of blood in the toilet. I miscarried. Your exact words were "I'm glad that baby died." Wow. Imagine dealing with someone like that?
Anyways, as much as I would like to get into details about how miserable those 3 years were dealing with that son of a bitch, I want to talk about the transition from that son of a bitch to the love of my life.
The beginning of this year, I realized that I outgrew him. I didn't want to be friends. I didn't want a damn thing to do with him.
There was this guy, he was my best friend. We knew each other since high school, we even used to like each other back then, but we sort of just fell off. Every year, he would look for me, see how I'm doing, wanting to reconnect, but I just wasn't having it. January 22, he told me he was in love with me. It took me back. Was I ready for something like that? I was traumatized from my last relationship, but something was just telling me to take that leap of faith, so I did.
Best. Decision. Ever.
Now, I'm not gonna boast about how wonderfully amazing my relationship is because that's not what this, whatever you wanna call this, is about. What I AM going to say, however, is what love SHOULD be like, when you know it's real.
Love is pure, y'all. Love is about being patient and making sacrifices to make things work. When I say sacrifices, I mean getting rid of the ugliest parts of yourself, become a better person for them, which may not seem like a sacrifice, but when you've been a certain way for so long, you'll get what I mean. You have to be willing to be uncomfortable. Change is kinda gross, to be honest. It's so fucking hard to reinvent yourself. Love shouldn't be painful, it shouldn't hurt at all. You shouldn't be up crying at 12 AM because you're questioning yourself and what you did wrong. That is NOT love. Love is being full of joy. I know man, life fucking sucks sometimes, but when you have the right person, they make things easier to deal with. You can be in your lowest moment, and they're right there, ready to get you back on your feet, ready to carry you on your back if they have to, which is also a part of sacrificing. Sometimes, things may not always be 50/50. We all have our days, we all reach some kind of depression in our lives, some days you might only be able to put in 20, but if you really love someone, you'll do that extra 80 because you know they need it. Love is healing. It helps you rid of your past chains and live, freely. I was never able to get over my past. My toxic relationships, my trust issues, my daddy issues, a bunch of shit, but he helped me let all that go. I don't know how, but he did. Love is trust, knowing that you have no worries in the world because you let your guard down, and now your significant other is building the walls around your foundation, making it impossible for intruders to get in. It's not going to be easy, but it's not suppose to be impossible, either. Love is not suppose to be painful. Love is privacy. Social media has made it such a thing that you have to put your business out there and your partner out there or you're "hiding" them, but let me just say this: when you put something out there for the world to see, it loses its value. Privacy is the most valuable thing that any human can have because you are completely in control, you're protecting the things that are important to you. Fuck social media and its dumb ass standards. Love your home without having to reveal your address.
Just know, love is the most beautiful thing that any human, insect, mammal, whatever the fuck, can experience.