The Story: Chapter Four. Manipulation.

As I've noted before, my friendships were rocky during this time. He told me that Tara, Grace, and Bree all hated me. He fed lies that made my stomach ache with anxiety and fear that nobody truly cared about me. It wasn't true. Three years later and I'm still trying to realize that people do love me. Although Tara and I had a falling out, he was wrong about the others. They show their love to me every day and I don't even have to ask for it. I'm truly blessed to have the people that went through that disgusting time today.

He made me believe that everyone was against everyone, especially me. I deserved to be alone. I was lucky to have him and only him. He was, in fact, the only one who actually loved me. Looking back, I'm so mad that I believed him. I hate how I fell down this rabbit hole of anger and lies. Manipulation is the strangest thing. You know deep down that it's wrong and that anyone who feeds you these things don't really care, but I was stuck. Whenever I tried to leave him, he'd either cry and threaten suicide or start yelling at me profanities and words that deeply scarred me. I didn't want him to die because I actually somehow loved him and I didn't want to be the target of his arrow shaped hate. 

"How can you STILL be with him?!" 

"Why do you let him treat you like this?" 

A girl I rode the band bus asked me these things. I'd like to talk to her now and thank her for asking me these things because it opened my eyes to what I was blind to. Anyway, my only response to her was that I loved him. 

"So? This isn't love. He doesn't treat you the way you treat him."

I didn't say anything after that. I just kept to myself and cried while I could hear him in the back talking loud enough so I could hear how awful I was. 

I started wearing more makeup, thinking it could cure my lack of beauty. I covered my body in hoodies and jeans so he wouldn't get disgusted by the rolls of my body. The words he'd carved into my brain deepened until I thought of myself as the ugliest and stupidest person alive. My eyes were too far apart. My eyebrows were terrible(which wasn't exactly false. Middle school Hayley decided to basically shave them off.). My nose was too small. My boobs were too small. My waist and thighs and stomach and calves and face were too plumpy. I started believing that I really WAS lucky to have him because he put up with my nasty body and terrible personality. 

Three years later and I still can't look in the mirror the same. Some days are great and I feel pretty cute, but others are rough and I just want to hide in my oversized sweatshirts and jeans. He warped my mind into believing that I was nothing, a nobody who doesn't deserve love and deserves nothing. I was his charity work. He loved me because nobody else would. I was his cross to bare, a burden that he couldn't get rid of. I was useless, someone he regretted being with. 

I didn't just assume these things. He was the one who drilled it into my head and my soul. I will always remember the way he made me feel. That's another reason for me to tell my story. Maybe it'll lift this crushing weight off of my chest and wash out of my thoughts. I'm ready to stop grieving who I use to be. I'm ready to be me again.

The Story: Chapter Three. Food.

After our first fight, I tiptoed around sensitive subjects when I talked to him. It didn't work. Our fights started out slowly; once a month, twice, three times, once a week, twice a week, every day. Although it would start off as something small, like a disagreement over food, it always ended in a screaming match. Who could yell louder; who could hurt the other's feelings quicker; who would apologize first? The answer varied time to time, but after the first three or four months he was the one who yelled the loudest. He was the one to call me something I hadn't been called since middle school. But I was always the one to apologize first, even when I knew it wasn't my fault.

The first year flew by and I don't remember hardly any of it. It's a grey area in the story of my life and I honestly would like to keep it that way. Block out the negativity and move on. To be honest after staying with him for half a year, I started giving up. I started letting him control me and my friendships. He started telling me how I spent too much time with my friends and fed lies about how terrible they were to me behind my back. I knew it wasn't true because I trusted my small group of friends. We'd grown up together and Bree just happened to fit in perfectly. So that's what our fights started to be about. I was a terrible girlfriend to his saint of a boyfriend who would never do anything to hurt me and would always love me. 

Then why would he always wind up yelling when I said something -in his eyes- wrong? Why would he always laugh at me while mascara black tears ran down my rosy cheeks? At this point, I started using food to cope. I excessively binged and he started to notice that I was gaining weight. Trust me, I noticed too. He made sure to let me know it whenever we would argue. He'd laugh and call me fat. Worthless. Ugly. He even called me a cow at one point. That's when I started giving up not only on him, but on myself. I started keeping my mouth shut. For those of you who don't really know me, when I get really insecure or depressed or even anxious, I shut down. I refuse to talk, I hide away, and I sleep. This is what caused this form of "coping". 

Anyway, after being called "tubby" and "cow", he decided to take my body into his own hands. He questioned me about what I was eating every day. He began giving me "dieting tips" about how eating less at every meal would make me lose weight faster! I was an idiot and listened. This didn't help me lose weight AT ALL because when he shut off his phone for the night, I ran to the kitchen to eat as much as I could before feeling sick to my stomach. He never knew that I was still binging, but still condoned starving myself. This happened more frequently when he decided to stay with me on the phone all night long. I wouldn't eat for days at a time. The weekend was the BEST because I could eat and lie to him. He wasn't watching me eat lunch or a snack at break. It got to the point where I started losing weight and you could tell if you looked at my body. It was slimmer, my curves were going away, but I still felt disgusting. 

He still called me fat after losing 20 pounds. He still called me ugly. My body still wasn't good enough. So, I decided to keep barely eating but I would make myself sick afterwards. This became an every day thing after he would make me feel guilty for eating anything at all, even if it was a single cracker. At this point, I was willing to do anything for him. He threatened to leave me, saying that he had skinnier, blonde girls with big boobs lined up to take my place. I like to call this time period of my life the grey area because I wasn't living in white or black. I was numb, wanting to drink until I blacked out. I was craving to feel some sort of emotion other than this robotic and slavelike state, bowing down to his every command and putting on a blank stare as his voice grew louder and more offensive. I have never wanted to die in my life until this point in time. 

The Story: Chapter One. Falling.

*Names have been changed for privacy reasons.*

This isn't a typical love story.
At all.
It's not some Romeo and Juliet thing where the fighting stops at the end.
To this day, my mind still floods with negativity and anxiety from everything.
Let's start at the beginning, shall we?

Band camp. Freshman year. Another start to an amazing school year with my best friends. We were all sitting in the front row before camp started, just catching up from the memories of a summer that flew past.

Then he walked in.
Holy.
Mother.
Theresa.
My THEN friend Kelly noticed him first. "Oh my goodness. WHO IS THAT? He's really cute."
I turned around, changing my fate for the next two years.
He was tall, had sandy brown hair, and looked terrified of nothing.
His emerald eyes met my gaze and I turned back around blushing. We all asked each other if we knew him. Nobody did.
Who was this mystery guy?

For months, I thought about this guy. I dated Kelly and realized that I'm open to loving anyone. That ended quickly. Then I dated one of my close guy friends and learned he didn't care about me, only my body and what I could offer him. But even when I was dating someone else, my mind was on green eyes. He and I became really close friends. He was there for me when I FINALLY broke it off with that guy who spread nasty, sexual rumors about me. He hugged me for the first time that day. I was upset and angry and crying because I knew that in dating this person, I had lost a really great friend and learned that he isn't who I thought he was. He wiped my tears off my face and tried to uplift me but all I could think about was his strong arms wrapped around me.
I had found comfort for the first time in a long time.

Jump to about a month later, and we had been talking nonstop. He still hugged me sometimes and I couldn't shake the feeling of needing him. The day of our hometown Christmas parade, IT WAS FREEZING. Our director made us get there an hour early so we could warm up our instruments and be ready to start the parade. But we finished playing early and we all sat down. Green eyes came up to me and sat beside me, holding his ice cold saxophone. My heart jolted. I was in love with a guy who probably didn't feel the same.

He noticed my shivering hands and held them. He saw that I was still cold and wrapped his arms around me for a good 30 minutes. Our friends kept asking if we were together. We'd both turn a shade of scarlet and deny it.
Little did we know that we would wind up together by the end of the night.

One text conversation while I was cleaning my room and listening to "I Don't Love You" by My Chemical Romance (because I will forever be stuck in my emo phase) changed our answers.
"So...What are we?"
"What do you mean?"
"You can't deny that you felt something too."
"Yeah, you're right...Do you want to be more than this?"
"I think I'd like that...What about you..?"
"I think so too."
And POOF.
We were together.
All I know is that I couldn't wait until Monday to see him again.

The Story: Chapter Two. Beginings.

That Monday, I told everyone about my new relationship. My best friend Audrey look disgusted and asked why I wanted to be with him. I showed every message we had sent and she kind of understood, but she wasn't fully on-board. Tara didn't even know who I was talking about because she wasn't in band, but she supported me. Grace supported me too, but she warned me to be careful because she felt some sort of bad vibe around him. Maybe I should've listened.

We were happy. All seemed balanced and lovely. We kissed a week later on December 12th. I thought everything was going smoothly. We were so happy, stuck in this puppy dog state of love until March 17th of the next year.

We had our first fight at a rehearsal for our Spring concert. This was the first of what was yet to come. He wasn't yelling. He never raised his voice, but what he said to me rings in my ears to this very day.
"You're such a lesbian. You're so f***ing ugly and I f***ing hate you."
What started this fight? Oh yeah, I was hanging out with my friends, including a new one who'd moved to our school that second semester. Bree and I had gotten extremely close within the past three months and he had gotten jealous. A big chunk of the off time we had while other groups were rehearsing was spent with her. We were cuddling and holding hands. I'm a very clingy person, especially toward my friends.

Anyway, he kept calling me fat, stupid, ugly, and lesbian until I finally apologized for not giving him my full attention. I genuinely thought it was my fault. He was in 8th grade (the last year of my school's middle school) and I was a freshman in high school, so we had different band periods and we never got to see each other except at practices and rehearsals. So I felt guilty for not holding HIS hand and cuddling with HIM. Because, after all, it was my fault. And it did seem like a lesbian thing to do...I guess? I mean, I am attracted to males and females. Maybe that's why he was jealous.

EXCUSE AFTER EXCUSE. I tried to make sense of it all. He'd done nothing wrong. He didn't hit me or yell at me, but I never cheated. Anyway, after apologizing for the fourth or fifth time, he finally accepted it, but told me to stay with him the rest of the day. So, I did. I ignored Bree and the rest of my band family.

Looking back, I should've seen warning signs. The way he got so angry scared me sometimes. He'd never gotten mad at me before, so I thought he wouldn't treat me like other people who interrupt his peace. I guess I was wrong.

Updateee

Hey guys! It's definitely been a hot minute since I've last posted, but I really hope you enjoy Chapter One of The Story (NAME PENDING). So a little information on that.

I was in the worst relationship I've ever had over two years ago.
I'm tired of lying for this person to save his pride.
I'm tired of hiding what REALLY went on.
He and I are at peace now, though I've cut off every ounce of communication.
This is something that people deserve to learn more about so that they can see warning signs if they are in the same situation.
In this story, the protagonist is me.
Anything and EVERYTHING I say is something I've witnessed.
Every bit of this story is the truth.
It gets dark and twisted so if you want to stay in Candy Land, maybe this isn't for you.
I won't go into extreme details with a few things because I don't want to be banned.
You've been warned.

I will admit that this will be the absolute HARDEST thing I've ever done in my writing.
It's going to open up old scars and I'm not going to be prepared for it.
I doubt I ever will be.
I loved him.
And a piece of me always will.
And that's the sick part about all of this.

Time Off.

Life's a mess right now.
I say as I'm about 3 hours away from my vacation spot with my best friend and her family.
But this is surface level stuff.
Everything I'm going through right now is inside and personal.
Someone near and dear to my heart is literally living the worst life I could imagine.
And things are touchy with us.
We have a past of getting in trouble together and me actually being myself.
Or so I thought.
More content coming soon.
About him.
About me.
About this whole knotted rope we call life.
I've been working on it in my free time and hopefully, I'll post it within a month or so.
Anyway.
Life's hard, but I'm staying positive. Ish.

Not The Same.

                  (Date Written: 3/4/19)
         (I'm also sorry if the format looks
          different. I'm posting on mobile.)

I use to wish that I had your relationship.
The way you two would sing to music,
Laugh at each other's antics,
Cry over old movies.
It was real and it was raw.
Except.
That it wasn't.
I grew up hoping that I wouldn't have the same fate as you.
The fights,
The nights apart,
The tension.
I won't work for a fairytale ending.
I'll work for the life we deserve.

past.

(Original Date Written: Unknown. I hate when I forget to date it.)

I was never afraid of my past until you became it.

I was never afraid to drive or go to the store.

I would laugh and sing to my heart's content without worry.

I hardly ever had nightmares

or cried myself to sleep.

Now?

I'm afraid of 

My shadow.

My reflection.

Myself.

Because your words haunt me every day.

I'm afraid of my past because it is you.

Life Update! (2/23/19)

I'm not doing too great right now.

Life's gotten harder lately.

But it's all mental .

I think it helps to show your vulnerability.

So. Here is how I'm feeling recently.

1. I won't lie. I miss you. I worry about your well-being and your health a lot. We were so close for so long and what we went through was the hardest thing I've ever done. I wonder if you regret talking about me like that. I wonder if you regret treating me the way you did. The lies you told me broke me. I trusted you with every ounce of my being. I told you things that no one has EVER been told before. Why would you make fun of my painful past?
2. Oh honey. THE STRESS OF A NEW JOB. I have to pay off my cute lil  Mustang somehow. I need to work more or I'll have to get a second job. 
3. Okay, driving in this crazy humid and crazy stormy weather has my anxiety shooting through the roof and up to the stars. Do you know how many times I've hydroplaned this week? About 5 or 6 times. I get really anxious driving in normal weather anyway, but when the rain is coming down so fast that you have to pull over to the side of the road and pray that you make it to your destination? I don't think my crazy little heart can handle it.

BUT

1. I'm so much better without you. I've been happier with old and new friends and my boy because you held me back from them. You made me believe that none of them cared as much as you did. We'd sit and plan our wedding(s) and it's so unreal to me still that you WON'T be a part of it, but I'm glad because he will be and so will everyone else you hid me from.
2. I've made some new relationships with coworkers. I'm genuinely happy where I am and I FINALLY get to take care of myself a little more instead of depending on everyone else. It's nice.
3. I'm trying to think of something positive to say about all of this rain and tornado weather, but I can't think of one. It did snow in LA for the first time in over 50 years though. Global warming is real, folks. And so is global cooling. It happens in a pattern every few 100 years. It's just the earth's cycle. But I do agree that we need to take better care of good ol' Mother Earth for as long as we're here. Anyway, um. Winter showers bring Spring flowers? I GIVE UP.

As you can probably digest, I've trying to see the good in all things now. 

It kind of makes life a little more tolerable and happier for me. 

Looking on the bright side has really opened my mind to a whole new world of peace and joy. 

I'm going to continue this positive path and hopefully, I'll feel even better.

❤