When I was 19, I finally found my first boyfriend. I've never been very sociable, always more shy than talkative, so High School was a fairly lonely experience for me. I kept my head down, I didn't speak very much, but I tried to be nice to people. I had a few friends, but more acquaintances than anything. It wasn't until I started college that I really began to open up.
It was my second semester when I met him. At first, I didn't think much of him, I wasn't repulsed by him or anything but I had a crush in his friend at first and I had thought his friend liked me too, only to find out he did, but then his interest slowly died and he ended up liking someone else. So, he asked his friend, my soon to be first boyfriend, to "keep me busy" one night when a bunch of us went to the movies and to Denny's at midnight. I'm not going to lie, I was pretty hurt and disappointed because the entire time, the guy I was crushing on was talking to the other girl he liked, and I was super confused because just a week before, he was hanging out and flirting with me. So, I said fine. His friend isn't bad, and having a boyfriend would be nice, so I let him drive me home and we started hanging out. It wasn't long before things got serious and he ended up "living" in my dorm with me, unofficially, of course. It was just him staying there all the time, using my computer, eating my food, watching my TV, all while he was supposed to be in class. He wasn't the greatest pick for a first boyfriend, and my almost 31 year old self looks back at my 19 year old self and wants to slap me in the face.
But if I did that, then I'd never have my son.
When the school year ended, we went our separate ways and I was really upset over it, but he was just like, eh, whatever, about it. Yeah... it became very clear to me I wasn't anything more than a convenience to him. But I kept it up anyway, even though everyone hated him, my friends and family, and they were right. But I went down to visit him at his house over the summer and stayed with him while his parents were away on their 25th (? I think) wedding anniversary vacation. And over the course of 6 days, where we really didn't do anything but have sex, I ended up getting pregnant.
We were both only 19. Neither of us were ready to be parents, and he begged me to have an abortion, but I didn't feel it was the right move for me. I'm not pro life or anti abortion or anything, so don't get me wrong. But I do believe it's a completely personal choice, and it felt wrong for me. So, I decided to keep the baby, whether or not he wanted to be in it's life or not. Long story short, he eventually came around and decided he wanted to be apart of our lives and wanted to give us another chance.
And me being the idiot I was, I said okay. I hoped he had changed, I wanted my kid to have both parents, and not a broken family. It took me a long time to realize that you can't stay together for the kids. It will break them even more when they know their parents are together, but are always fighting and hating each other.
So, we had an on again off again relationship for 4 years. And he cheated on me repeatedly. And because of his infidelity, I became a person I never want to be again. He was always between jobs, never being able to keep one for longer than 6 months at a time, and I remember he finally got a job where all of his co workers were women, and I had this really bad, embarrassing reaction, where I just flipped out and thought, "Great, more women for you to fuck in the back of your car, or in a bush somewhere."
It was not pretty. But I've learned from that, which is good because very few people are able to learn from history. History is normally repeated, and I defeated it. I learned that if a guys going to cheat on you, then he's going to cheat on you and you can either let it kill you, or move on from it.
My (current) fiance has a friend who he's been friend with high school. He had a crush on her for a little while when he was 18 or 19, but she wasn't interested at him, so he moved on. Got married, went to war, had a baby, got divorced. And somewhere after that, he did end up sleeping with his friend one time, after which they both felt awkward and like they'd made a mistake. They're still friends now, and the fact that they slept together once 6 years ago doesn't bother me. I am even friends her now.
I guess I've just learned that boys will be boys, and men will be men. My fiance and I have been through a bit of a rocky patch because we both have some health issues, and my issues make certain parts of our relationship difficult. I've even told him I wouldn't care if he had "someone else on the side" because I'm unable to "give him what he needs." He's said he would never do that because he's "the most loyal person in the world."
Maybe it would just make me feel less guilty, I think, partly, it would even be a relief because then he wouldn't expect it from me anymore and I wouldn't be in pain, or worry about being in pain, or feeling obligated... I still have that gnawing sensation in my gut that tells me he's going to eventually get sick of it, and find someone else. And I honestly don't know if it would break my heart, or save me.
I love him. I do. But I'm not happy anymore. And it's not his fault. I can't blame him for my lack of happiness, but I also can't say he isn't a small part of why I am unhappy. We recently moved away from the city to a really small town, and I love it here. It's like I've found my own Stars Hollow. I love the apartment, it's huge and spacious and heat is included, has a dishwasher and garbage disposal. We're on the second floor. It's a super safe neighborhood. Good school district from what I've heard (still crossing my fingers on this one, since school doesn't start for another week.)
I always think once I'm in a different place, I will change, I'll be different... but just because the location changes, doesn't mean my environment does. It's still me and him and my son and his son and our cats. It's still my ex, and his ex, and stupid high school drama that is so asinine, I shouldn't have to deal with it. But it's still there, along with all of my physical health problems and mental health problems, and his physical and mental health problems.
I am seeing a counselor who is right down the street from me, but my insurance denied her because for some reason my Fidelis won't cover counseling, so I have to pay $75 a session, which means Matt has to pay it, and I've only seen her twice, and she's already told me she can sense I don't want to be with Matt anymore and I want it to go back to just me and Dylan again... So, on top of everything else I'm dealing with, I have more guilt because he is paying for me to talk to someone who thinks I should leave him! ...And while a part of that is true, I miss it just being be and Dylan... Dylan is 10. I've only got 8 years left before he's off to college, and then it will just be me, alone. And I don't want to be alone. It's really not safe for me to be alone. Not now, anyway. Maybe in 8 years from now... but I don't know. Will I get better? Will I ever break free of this fear of socializing and speaking and being a freaking person??
I've vowed to never have jealousy issues ever again. And I honestly haven't... at least not to the extent of before. There have been times when I've questioned things, honesty, what his definition of loyalty is, is it the same as mine? I don't know... I have so much going on inside my head, and I feel very stuck. I've been stuck in the same place for years... ever since SUNY Brockport broke me. And I thought if I could find love, I'd be fixed. Then I found it. I wasn't fixed. Then I thought if I could find a little bit of financial security, I'd be fixed. I found it, and I wasn't. So, if neither money or love equate to happiness, then what does?
Relationships are all fun in the beginning, but once you get past the "honeymoon phase" ... it's boring. It's monotonous. And every time you think something is finally going to change... it doesn't. It's like I'm stuck on this carousel and I'm riding a horse, but I want to get off the horse and go sit in the Swan, but I can't because the ride never stops long enough for me to get off the horse. Sometimes, it doesn't stop at all, and I get too dizzy and have to close my eyes or I'll hork. And all I want to do is get the fuck off this stupid carousel.
Sometimes I wonder about my brain. Is it too far gone to be repaired, or am I not trying hard enough? Do I even want to get better? Yes. Do I want to deal with all of the things I need to deal with in order to get better?? No. That's the problem. I'd rather pop pain killers so I don't have to feel anything, physically or mentally, than have to feel everything and cry and cry and scream and TALK about it. I think a part of me is afraid of what will happen when I do talk about it... will I get better or will I break?? Will anyone even listen?? Or care?
I've been hurt by so many people in my life who were supposed to care, family, friends, etc. I feel like maybe I've gotten used to it. I have plenty of scars on my back from all the knives. Maybe I need to stop needing other people to care about me, and just care about myself for a change. It's hard to do when you hate yourself... and I know that's really self deprecating and sounds like I'm asking for attention, but it is really hard to love someone you've spend your whole life believing doesn't deserve to be loved.
Maybe that's why I'm not jealous anymore...