We met when I was a senior in high school. You were 19. The first time I saw you, I was attracted to you. You were driving me and some friends to a party at your house after a show. You were so tall, with big plugs, and you didn’t speak a work to me. Just drove us in the dark, smoking a cigarette. You seemed so tough, like you didn’t have a care in the world. A few weeks later, we were dating. You still had probably only said 10 words to me. But there was something about you that just pulled me in. I remember lying in your bed awake for hours, trying to sleep. I would roll over and our hands would brush; we would both start giggling. While our friends were having sex on the floor, we would just lie in bed and try to muffle our laughter with the blanket. We became inseprable.
Eventually, I graduated high school and you got evicted from your apartment. You stopped being so shy, towards me at least. I let you stay with me at my parents house for a few weeks until we finally got an apartment together. Those were some of the best nights of my life. Hopping fences, throwing hot dogs at cars, making gourmet ramen meals.
Somehow, somewhere along the line, things cooled off between us, there were some fights, and I hurt you, bad. I remember the night you told me. “I’m leaving in a few days. I’m moving in with my mom and step dad.” I was shattered. Crushed.
You were moving 400 miles away.
I got a ring at my work, it had 2 halves. You wore one on your finger, I had the other around my neck.
We even went and got matching tattoos, even though we both knew that you were leaving me.
Your step dad showed up at about 7:30 am the next day. I got ready for work. I sat in my car as you put your things in yours and drove away. I sat in my car for an hour and sobbed. I sobbed the whole way to work. I opened the store, and sobbed.
That was three years ago. I still cry.
I remember about a year later when I got fired from my job. I called you sobbing and said that with my last paycheck, I was going to come see you. I picked up my friend and we left that night. I drove 400 miles, all through the night, and arrived at your house at 7 am. I saw you and my heart melted. It was as if you never left, as if we never got in that last fight. We layed in your bed and cuddled until we fell back asleep. The next night, we went to a party at one of your friend’s houses. I had a few beers and ended up hanging out with your roommate. You were in the living room…with a girl. The more I drank, and the longer you were gone, the more I started to hurt.
I told you I was leaving, and went to the parking lot of the apartment complex. I didn’t drive there, I was drunk, and I was 400 miles away from home. I sat on a curb and bawled. Your roommate told me that the girl you were talking to was stupid, and that you made fun of her all the time. He said I had nothing to worry about.
When we got back to your house, we were sitting in your garage smoking a cigarette. I took the ring around my neck and ripped it off, breaking the chain, and threw it at you. You asked me to please not do that, and apologized. I gave in and passed out in your bed with you. The next morning, you got up to get ready for work. You left your phone in bed. It kept buzzing by my head, so i picked it up. You were texting that girl. She asked when your ex girlfriend was leaving and you said soon. So I did. I got up, threw my shit in the car, and was standing at the door when you got out of the shower. I said goodbye. You looked genuinely confused.
I cried the whole 400 miles home.
You started dating her. You would call me from her house, hiding in the closet. We fought more. And I even fought with her. We stopped talking, at her request, of course.
You’ve since had a baby with that same girl, and gotten engaged to her. And then, here’s the real knife in the heart, you moved back. You brought her with you.
She’s cheated on you twice, that I know of. And lied countless times. But you don’t know about both times. I’ve sworn to stay out of your life. And this time, I actually am. I’m staying out of it. And it kills me.
But for some reason, you seem happy with her. You have a beautiful baby. So today, when I saw a quote that said something like “if you can’t stop thinking about somone, dont give up on them” I wanted to write an angry letter to the person who posted it.
I have been left with no choice. I fought for you so hard, and cried so much, that I was ostracized by my own friends at one point.
I had to give up.
Love grows in me like a tumor,
parasites bent on devouring its host.
I’m developing my sense of humor,
till I can laugh at my heart between your teeth,
till I can laugh at my face beneath your feet.Skillet on the stove is such a temptation,
maybe I’ll be the lucky one that doesnt get burned.
What the fuck was I thinking?Love plows through me like a dozer,
I’ve got more give than a bale of hay,
and there’s always a big mess left over.
What did you do?
What did you say?Skillet on the stove is such a temptation,
maybe I’ll be the special one that doesnt get burned.
What the fuck was I thinking?Love tears me up like a demon.
Opens the wounds and fills them with lead,
and I’m having some trouble just breathing.
If we werent such good friends I think that I’d hate you.
If we weren’t such good friends I’d wish you were deadOh it’s so embarrasing
I’m this awkward and uncomprable thing,
and I’m running out of places to hide
I’m sitting on my parent’s veranda. Two glasses of wine and a half a pack of cigarettes in. Marlboro Mediums. Not my brand, but they’re free. I’m listening to some sad, slow music. Nothing I’ve heard before, but I’m feeling it tonight.
The sun has gone down, but not enough for it to be fully dark. The clouds are gorgeous. Almost charcoal grey, almost navy blue. They look as though they’re rolling over my head, even though they’re really barely moving. The rain just started. It sounds like someone is throwing candy sprinkles over the canvas roof over my head.
I am thinking of you, of course, but not like I used to. You seem to care now. You’re nowhere near okay, but you seem to be doing better than you were. And I am growing more and more detached by the day. I do care, and I do worry about you, but not in the heart wrenching way I used to.
Leaving has changed me. I know I only went 45 miles away, but only seeing you once a week, as opposed to 3 times or more a day, has made me realize that I was attached to the company, but not you. I don’t know how to explain this, because I do still love you. But not like I used to.
There is still a hole in my heart. But you aren’t what I need to fill it. Sometimes I even feel as if all of my friends have betrayed me, and if they haven’t then I feel like they’re just very indifferent to my well-being. The only people that have really been there for me through all of the heartbreak, illness, and unemployment are my parents. I can’t even say my family, because most of them are pretty selfish, too.
I suppose my new goal is to just take care of myself and my parents, because we do need each other, though none of us will admit it. We have a silent understanding. I guess the best part of it is that through everything I’ve done, to them and myself, they don’t feel like I owe them anything. And they definitely do not owe me a thing.
This is what real love is.
I got a text message from your mother today while I was at work. It went as follows:
“Hey, I wanted to let you know that your dog is at my house with ____ and ____. I took him to the doctor earlier to get him signed up for therapy and counceling to get off of the drugs completely. It was his own idea. Also, thank you so much for being his real best friend.”
I really hope that you get better. You’re all I’ve thought about all day.
I hope right now you’re dreaming about a life much easier than this one.
Love always, me.
We started dating on June 9th, 2009. There was a party at a mutual friend’s house that we decided to go to. We had been hanging out a lot over the past few days. I remember pretty clearly when you came and sat next to me on the couch and said “Can I ask you a question?” “Of course”, I said. Then you said “Do you want to be my girlfriend?” We had only known each other for a week, maybe less, but there was something about you that made me want to jump out of my skin and crawl into yours. You made me laugh until my face was sore. You were caring. And you loved to drink, like me. That’s how we met, at the bar. We were both on the verge of being blacked out. You walked up to me and handed me your phone. You said “Put your number in it.” And I did. Anyway, I said yes. I knew I loved you, even though it had been a week.
It’s only been 6 weeks since I left. And I am still torn apart. I don’t act like it most of the time. And I know it’s not healthy for us to be together. But there are so many things I wish I could just talk to you about. I want you to come over and drink a bottle of wine with me. And just talk. And let me cry. You know everything about me. You’re my best friend. I am so lonely. So in writing this, I hope to alleviate some of this weight that has been building up.
First off, let me tell you that I love you. I love you so much. I miss your hugs and your kisses. And I really miss how we used to laugh. You always have been able to make me laugh until my face hurts. And hold me when I’m cold.
I remember sleeping on the couch with you, even though we had a perfectly good bed. Being smashed together and tangled up in the middle of the summer, stuck to that fucking leather couch. I slept terribly. It was uncomfortable. But I’d give anything to just rewind 7 months and get stuck to that couch with you again.
Do you remember that time when we covered half of our back yard in black plastic and made the biggest slip n slide ever? I remember covering it in dish soap and beer and just rolling and sliding around. I would fire up the grill and cook you steaks in my bikini, still covered in soap.
I’ve been in so many relationships. I go through them like I go through houses. I can’t stay in one place. Emotionally or physically. But with you, I actually wanted a white picket fence. The whole thing. We even got a puppy together. I would think about a wedding in my head. You told me that you thought about how you were going to propose to me.
So we moved out of the party house and got a place of our own. I miss that first night, sleeping on the floor on a mattress. We watched Silence of the Lambs. We both were really scared. But you had a hammer next to the bed, because you would protect me.
We painted the walls and decorated together. We had a Christmas tree. We were so happy.
I can’t pinpoint exactly when it went wrong. It was slowly. Our ‘love nest’ changed when your best friend needed a place to stay. I agreed to let him move in, but only if it was very temporary. That was six months ago. He got settled in and our privacy moved out.
What started out as recreational drug use turned into every day. You weren’t the same when you were on them. You didn’t make me laugh the same. You were distant. You were always in a hurry to go somewhere or do something. You didn’t lay around with me anymore. I mean, I guess you did, but neither of us were totally ‘there’ emotionally.
I stopped having sex with you. I was getting so frustrated that I didn’t want you to touch me. It made me sick to my stomach that we had put so much effort into something that was just going to fade away so quickly.
You were spending money that we didn’t have. And not looking for a job. I remember when you got your tax returns back. It was a Thursday. That weekend, I’m not sure exactly what we did. I’m sure that I got drunk. But at this point, you were more into the drugs than drinking.
The last day that you were mine was Monday, March 16th. Our cable and internet had been shut off again and I didn’t get paid for a few more days. I asked you if you could pay it until I had some more money. You told me that all of your money was gone. Between Thursday and Monday, you had spent over $400 without drinking, paying bills, or even helping me get my oil changed. I still don’t know exactly where it all went, but I have a few guesses.
I moved.
A block away.
I see you every day. Sometimes more than that. I miss you.
You are still taking pills.
You are still not looking for work.
And the worst part is, you still love me just as much as I love you.
It’s really hard for me to give you the cold shoulder, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.
