Maybe it isn't the best time to talk about this for me, but I figured since I was here I might as well go ahead.
So something very tragic happened in my life, no more than a month ago. I don't know why I hadn't posted about it sooner; I had a lot to say. I suppose it hurt too much to talk about when I wasn't even sure anyone would hear (or read. Whatever.)
I guess maybe I should start out in the beginning, and I apologize in advance if the story is rough; I'm having a hard time with this. It all started almost two years ago, when I was still with my ex. There was a new kid in school; we all had science class together. He was funny, attractive..Everyone liked him. We never really talked, but he got to be good friends with my ex. They hung out, joked, played video games. Now that I think back, he first really came into my life asking to have sex with me. I, being myself, said no. Not only did I have a boyfriend, but I didn't even want to have sex with the person I was with. Thinking about all this, I don't even remember how he got my number. So that being done, he told people I was a whore. I think he probably got the idea that I might have sex with him from the fact that my ex exaggerated all that we'd done together. I was mad, but I got over it.
Time passed and eventually all was forgotten. Summer turned to fall. He and I had gym together.
Now, by this point in time he had decided he liked me. Though I my previous relationship had ended, I rejected him. He continued, however, to slap my ass whenever the chance presented itself. And yet, despite that, he sort of became my friend.
As I may have mentioned in the past, I got sick that winter. I was unable to return to school, and until graduation, we had lost contact. Still being a technical member of the student body, I did attend. I'm not even going to go into the details of how idiotic I looked. But once it was done and we'd all filed out into the courtyard, he was one of the first people to come up and hug me. He asked me out for the first time that day. I might have said yes had there not been another girl; my sisters best friend. Every now and then I wonder what would have happened if I'd said yes; whether things would have turned out differently.
Now it was around that time when things started to turn around for him. Looking back at our conversations, he described it as a switch turning in his mind. It was that summer he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. When he got to his new school, his personality had changed. He was bullied, his mother wanted to send him away. It was then he contacted me again. I had forgiven him. I listened, and he knew that I cared. After that, we began to talk more frequently and became closer friends. He wanted to kill himself. I told him I couldn't stop him if that was what was best for him, but that I would be devastated if he did.
Shortly after this, he went missing. Well..Not really missing. I looked for him. Went out in the middle of the night; the memory still threatens to bring me to tears. I was so relieved when he texted me, telling me he's been in the hospital, suicidal. At least he was alive.
We were going to move in together year after next. He asked me to run away with him; I wish I'd said yes. I didn't. He claimed to be in love with me. I don't really doubt that now, but I did at the time; it was what was holding me back.
Three months ago I made a mistake. I abandoned him. I found someone I wanted to be with. It having been a month since what happened, I've had time to think, and I don't regret saying yes to him. He's probably the best boyfriend I've had. What I regret is leaving my friend when he'd told me what was going on; told me he needed me. I regret not telling him I loved him when I had the chance.
Almost a month ago, this friend killed himself. He was found on the reservation near our towns, bullet in his heart.
I wasn't lying when I said I'd be devastated. I was devastated. I didn't want to believe it. I cried; I screamed; I slammed my head on the wall, but he was still gone. I knew it was my fault. I came close to following in his footsteps several times.
My current boyfriend stayed the night, making sure I didn't hurt myself. At that point, I felt sick. I regretted ever even considering going out with him. That's changed now of course; I know there's nothing I can do now, whether this is my fault or not. I can't go back. Why turn my back on someone who really cares about me, and who I care about, just to dwell in the past. I couldn't take the funeral; it was open casket. I don't like to cry in front of people, and more than that I didn't want to see the people he thought didn't care.
Time has passed and I'm no longer on the verge of tears at all times; no longer swimming in the void of depression I was a month ago. Don't get me wrong, I'm not over it. I'm not over him. I still dream about him, wake up praying to whoever that it was all a dream. It wasn't though. I know that. There are so many emotions that I could share, that I just can't get out into words. All I can say is that I hope he knows that I really truly love him, and that I cared. I really cared.
Guys- if you know someone who needs you, don't doubt them. Let them know how you feel. I think it's worth being made a fool of if it means they know you care. I'd do virtually anything to go back and tell him just how much he meant to me, rocky past of not. But I guess life isn't fair.
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Friday, April 12, 2013
Happiness and Standards
Looking back, it's been several months since I wrote anything. Oops. I guess I just haven't gotten around to it. I know I've thought about it, but my motivation hasn't exactly been at it's highest, and I'm never online when I feel like writing. So, here we go.
I was confronted a few months back while having some issues with panic, by someone I previously considered to be a friend. He called me a hypochondriac, said I overreact about everything, and that I just don't want to be happy. I'm just going to start out by making it very clear that I am not a hypochondriac. I have emetophobia. Sure I worry over whether or not something will make me sick. If you'd remember, I'd rather die than vomit. That clear? Alright. If there's one thing you should never say to me if you expect to gain my friendship, it's "you're a hypochondriac/hystrionic."
On to claim number two. Yes, I make a big deal over shit. Know why that is? I feel more over shit than most people do. I overanalyze and I overFEEL. I can't help it. I'm just overly sensitive. If I could change that, I very well might.
Number three: Happiness. Could anyone really be so daft as to believe I WANT to be unhappy? Obviously this person wasn't too sharp (He believed people only ever vomited because they had bacteria in their stomachs(WHAT?)). But really. Happiness, to me at least, is something far more complicated than what I want. Yes, I want to be happy. In fact, sometimes I actually AM happy, it just tends not to last very long. The thing is that once you've been brought up from unhappiness, it's going to hurt even more once you fall again. Don't understand? Think of it this way; You want a kitten, so you go to the shelter and adopt one. A week or two later, the kitten dies. That loss feels a hell of a lot worse than just wishing you had a kitten. However, even with the threat of falling further, I still want to be happy. Fuck, I LIKE being happy. And of course I do; that particular balance of chemicals makes us feel good. Maybe happiness is harder for me not only because I have a hard time climbing out from my hole to get there, but because I'm constantly in fear of losing it. I couldn't tell you for sure.
Anyway- since I haven't posted in so long, I thought I'd write on two topics today, this second one being standards. Yes, I mean standards in dating.
To really understand why this is bothering me you'd have to go back about a year. About a year ago, I met a guy. He seemed pretty nice, and we got to be pretty close. Problem was, he liked me a little bit more than I wanted him to. When he asked me out I told him no, but that there was always a chance I'd change my mind in the future- that was where I messed up. After that, he was on a constant mission to try to get me to date him. I'm not even going to go into that shit right now, seeing as it's far to much for me to want to type. Long story short, he was nice to me, maybe even a little too nice (to the point where it got stalkerish), and was under the impression that because of that, I owed him a relationship. Now we get to my standards. "Nice guys"- the kind you always see complaining on the internet- for some reason have got it into their heads that girls only go for douchebags. There are two things I have to say to this. One- people tend to have a side to them that isn't necessarily obvious. Every now and again, there will be a douchebag that actually has a nice side to them that you can't see. The same goes to nice guys. A lot of the "nice guys" are actually assholes. Yeah. If you go around the internet complaining because a girl actually values your friendly relationship then chances are I'm talking about you. You're an asshole. Second thing I have to say: No. A lot of girls DO in fact want a nice guy. But a lot of them also have standards. So I thought, for everyones benefit, I'd share my rule on dating. For me to even consider dating a guy he must be two of three things: Nice, interesting and attractive. If you are just nice, that's good and all, but not enough for me to want a relationship with you. As cruel as it sounds, that's just to help me avoid some not-so-pleasant situations, and so I intend to stick to that rule. And to that "nice guy"- because I know he knows how to find this blog- I don't want a douchebag. I do genuinely want a nice boyfriend. Oh- and, though I hate to jump the gun here since it's only been a month, I'd have to say my boyfriend is a pretty nice guy, and I'm very pleased with that.
I do hope anyone reading this will excuse any mistakes I've made with the text. This computer is not my own and therefor I'm finding it slightly difficult to use, seeing as I've yet to get used to it.
I was confronted a few months back while having some issues with panic, by someone I previously considered to be a friend. He called me a hypochondriac, said I overreact about everything, and that I just don't want to be happy. I'm just going to start out by making it very clear that I am not a hypochondriac. I have emetophobia. Sure I worry over whether or not something will make me sick. If you'd remember, I'd rather die than vomit. That clear? Alright. If there's one thing you should never say to me if you expect to gain my friendship, it's "you're a hypochondriac/hystrionic."
On to claim number two. Yes, I make a big deal over shit. Know why that is? I feel more over shit than most people do. I overanalyze and I overFEEL. I can't help it. I'm just overly sensitive. If I could change that, I very well might.
Number three: Happiness. Could anyone really be so daft as to believe I WANT to be unhappy? Obviously this person wasn't too sharp (He believed people only ever vomited because they had bacteria in their stomachs(WHAT?)). But really. Happiness, to me at least, is something far more complicated than what I want. Yes, I want to be happy. In fact, sometimes I actually AM happy, it just tends not to last very long. The thing is that once you've been brought up from unhappiness, it's going to hurt even more once you fall again. Don't understand? Think of it this way; You want a kitten, so you go to the shelter and adopt one. A week or two later, the kitten dies. That loss feels a hell of a lot worse than just wishing you had a kitten. However, even with the threat of falling further, I still want to be happy. Fuck, I LIKE being happy. And of course I do; that particular balance of chemicals makes us feel good. Maybe happiness is harder for me not only because I have a hard time climbing out from my hole to get there, but because I'm constantly in fear of losing it. I couldn't tell you for sure.
Anyway- since I haven't posted in so long, I thought I'd write on two topics today, this second one being standards. Yes, I mean standards in dating.
To really understand why this is bothering me you'd have to go back about a year. About a year ago, I met a guy. He seemed pretty nice, and we got to be pretty close. Problem was, he liked me a little bit more than I wanted him to. When he asked me out I told him no, but that there was always a chance I'd change my mind in the future- that was where I messed up. After that, he was on a constant mission to try to get me to date him. I'm not even going to go into that shit right now, seeing as it's far to much for me to want to type. Long story short, he was nice to me, maybe even a little too nice (to the point where it got stalkerish), and was under the impression that because of that, I owed him a relationship. Now we get to my standards. "Nice guys"- the kind you always see complaining on the internet- for some reason have got it into their heads that girls only go for douchebags. There are two things I have to say to this. One- people tend to have a side to them that isn't necessarily obvious. Every now and again, there will be a douchebag that actually has a nice side to them that you can't see. The same goes to nice guys. A lot of the "nice guys" are actually assholes. Yeah. If you go around the internet complaining because a girl actually values your friendly relationship then chances are I'm talking about you. You're an asshole. Second thing I have to say: No. A lot of girls DO in fact want a nice guy. But a lot of them also have standards. So I thought, for everyones benefit, I'd share my rule on dating. For me to even consider dating a guy he must be two of three things: Nice, interesting and attractive. If you are just nice, that's good and all, but not enough for me to want a relationship with you. As cruel as it sounds, that's just to help me avoid some not-so-pleasant situations, and so I intend to stick to that rule. And to that "nice guy"- because I know he knows how to find this blog- I don't want a douchebag. I do genuinely want a nice boyfriend. Oh- and, though I hate to jump the gun here since it's only been a month, I'd have to say my boyfriend is a pretty nice guy, and I'm very pleased with that.
I do hope anyone reading this will excuse any mistakes I've made with the text. This computer is not my own and therefor I'm finding it slightly difficult to use, seeing as I've yet to get used to it.
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