Tag Archives: experiences

For My Special Someone

Who knew that something special could blossom out of a short encounter with someone who I thought did not even notice my existence?

The months leading up to when I met him were undoubtedly the worst months of my life by far. I fell into the deepest pits of depression and despair to a point where I believed there was no chance of climbing back to the top. My whole life was falling apart at the seams; between  being surrounded by loss and overwhelmed with loneliness, I could not imagine how “it would all get better in time.” Just as I near gave up at any chance of happiness, he somehow found his way into my life. He was the ray of light in the darkness my life was in early 2016.

Oh sure, a guy coming along being the thing that filled the empty void I kept feeling in my life seems trite, yet it was indeed him that pulled me out of that slump. From the moment I met him at the first social event I went to after months of isolating myself from the world, I could tell he was something special. I do not believe in love at first sight, but I do believe that when we met, just by hearing him talk and by the way he approached other people, I knew there was something delightfully unique about him. I could tell he was a beautiful person, inside and out.

Despite the vibes I got from him, I never imagined it was my life that would be affected by him. When we met, we hardly spoke and I assumed it would be the last I ever saw of him. I was used to crossing paths with attractive men and never heard from them again. This one, however, I knew was worth pursuing out that bunch. He was genuinely a sweetheart by the way he talked to his friends and the way he hugged me when I left despite the fact that we barely spoke to each other at all. I did not remember his name, nor did I want to be that creep that asked my friends who he was. Somehow, by chance, I found him and added him on Facebook, and that is where it all began.

What has ensued after that day in June was the best months of my life so far. A month of getting to know each other, and six months of loving (liking at first) and laughing until my cheeks hurt.

In July, I had a crush on him that I refused to let out despite being unable to stop thinking about how he was so protective over me despite barely knowing me and how adorable his laugh was when we first spent a few minutes together as he walked me home from work. Then, when I was sure the crush was unrequited despite the fact that he was displaying conspicuous signs of interest, he kissed me and thus changing everything between us. At first, I was skeptical to let him in as I was used and emotionally abused by every guy I had ever been involved with, but he was easily able to prove otherwise.

Once I let him in, he proved that I had made the right decision. As opposed to being some girl he wanted to fuck around with until something else came along, he began to show me off to his friends as his girl and keep me around as much as possible. It almost seemed too good to be true; a guy I liked had been proud to be called mine and genuinely enjoyed my presence. He would do anything to make sure I was safe as well by doing things such as walking me home and running to my side the moment danger arose. Despite his sense of humor, he managed to stay tactful around me for my own sake, something that no one had even cared to do for me.

What really tugged my heart strings was watching the smile across his face whenever I planted a kiss on his cheek, and whenever he talked about how happy I made him. Never in my life had I felt so special; I had the ability to make someone else actually feel happy!

It was by October, I realized I enjoyed even the littlest things about him. How focused he is on something once he starts it, the way he is able to make one of the biggest downers in the world go to bed smiling, the way he lights up the room the moment he enters it, the way he is so passionate about skateboarding, the way he respects his own family, the size of his heart, and how his smile warmed my heart. At first, I was fearsome of it happening, but I finally accepted that I was indeed in love with him.

And on birthday, he came out with it too. He loved me. I was loved by him. I did not have to question it, because he has proved it every single day since then. He is always by my side and willingly going out and doing things for me whenever I need something. He has emotionally supported me through the worst of my panic attacks and events in my life. He has been one of my few motivations when I ponder if I should keep going with life. Whenever we argue, we always find a way to pull out of it in a mature way. He has proven to me that he has eyes for me and only me, so fear of him being disloyal is never an issue for me. I could list every thing he has done for me, but I could go for paragraphs.

He is everything I have been looking for for years. He is what has been my rock through all the crap life has thrown at me, and he is the reason why I view myself in a bit more of a positive light. I could not imagine my life if I had never met him.

For that reason, I promised myself to protect him and be by his side through through it all. I want to be there to emotionally support him and help him see himself through my eyes. I want to be by his side no matter what happens and help him get through the toughest of times. I want him to know just how precious he is to me, and how he is loved by everyone even if he can’t see it.

I love you baby, happy half-anniversary.

My Lessons Learned: Part 1

INTRO

They say that getting hurt is an essential part of life and to live life with no regrets. They also say that it is always darkest before the dawn. Throughout the twenty-one years of my life I have lived so far, I have learned this to be true the hard way.

PART 1

It all started with that boy with the hazel eyes and the blonde patch of hair in his Mohawk. He was my “high school sweetheart,” my first boyfriend, and the first guy that taught me what happiness was. He stole my first kiss on the two train during the Spring of 2012 and nothing was ever the same for me again. All those years of being that ugly duckling that no guy would even consider giving the time of day quickly changed into having someone who actually wanted to be called mine and made me feel like I was actually worth something. Our first four months together was full of laughter, kisses, and memories that are now distant yet still remain implanted into bits and pieces in the back of my mind. There was also “I love you’s” exchanged, but we were sixteen and naive. What did we know about love?
As quickly as our beautiful relationship blossomed that Spring, it died out once that horrendous Summer ended. Our two-hour long phone conversations every day where we talked about everything and nothing turned into forced five minute conversations that ended in my tears. His sweet, gentle tone turned into a cold, bitter one that left me questioning if he had grown to despise me for some unknown reason. Whenever he was near, I would find myself noticing those hazel eyes of his that were once locked on me began averting elsewhere. Seeing each other every week turned into him making excuses to be away from me for three weeks until school came near and facing me would be inevitable for him. Then, just a week before my senior year began, he hit me with what I had been warned by my friends was coming but I was too in denial to accept.
He dumped me.
Oh, but he didn’t do it in person, I wasn’t worthy of that. He did so by having me travel to a play of his downtown one hot day in August after deliberately avoiding me for three weeks, hardly acknowledging my existence by having me sit on the sidelines with a depressed face as he took pictures with other women, then sending me home while I was in tears alone in the middle of the night by myself on the train. When I finally obtained the balls to confront him about this on Facebook, since he refused to answer my calls to even at least make sure I was home safe, he made it as though everything was my fault and for a long time I would believe it. I was too shy and boring, he said. He wanted a girl who he could have fun with and didn’t cling onto him all the time because she was too socially awkward to stand on her own two feet. After he was done with his side of why he was leaving me, he decided he had no time to hear what I had to say. He simply left me on seen and changed his relationship status to single, and that was that.
For him, anyway. For me, it was devastating. My first relationship came to an end. The one person that made me genuinely happy for the first time in my life left me with nothing but a broken heart. The week following the breakup was full of starving myself because my stomach ached at the sight of food, and being awake until five in the morning with tears in my eyes as I obsessively stalked his Facebook in hopes of signs of closure and that he missed me.Instead I found him writing about the importance of moving on in life, and dedicating that one Fall Out Boy song where they sing in the chorus, “I don’t blame you for being you, but you can’t blame me for hating it…”, to me. I was convinced that he truly had forgotten me and that five months together meant nothing to him. All the kisses, laughter, and I love you’s meant nothing because I was not interesting or sociable enough for him.
When senior year began, I decided to wipe away those tears and put on a bold demeanor to prove to him that I didn’t need him. Despite the fact that I was still talking in my sleep about him, and resisting the urge to both slap him in the face and beg for him back, I still held my own when facing him in the halls as we walked passed each other as if we never met. That is how it was until one day in the cafeteria, three weeks into the school year, his eyes were planted on me as I talked and laughed away with new friends I made. He then approached me, hugged me, and asked me how I was. In his face, I kept my cool. For the rest of the day, I obsessed over that one interaction wondering if it meant anything. I should not have wanted him back after he abruptly dumped me and expected me to move on, but I didn’t care. All I knew was that he made me happy once, maybe he could again and we could put the horrendous break-up behind us. Having a good heart makes you believe that everyone else does.
That false sense of hope clung onto me that whole senior year. When he and I would have brief exchanges in the hallways or at lunch, the hope would remain. When I dated someone else briefly while I still had him on my mind, and he walked around sulking at the sight of me in the arms of another, hope would remain. When he apologized for hurting me after seeing me sulk around the school for weeks contemplating suicide just around the time I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety, hope would remain. Even when he would call me boring, or when he teamed up with his ex to bully me for moving on to another guy, or when he mocked my weight to other people, I still clung onto hope. When I saw him, I saw not the guy who hurt me, but rather the boy with the hazel eyes who admired me and treated me with such respect the year before.
Then came my last day of high school, quite possibly the last day I would ever see his face again. The day where I would pour out my feelings and determine whether or not we would rekindle our old flame.
Oh silly, naive, Lisa. If only you would accept that once a flame is burned out, there is no way of reviving it. You can create a new flame, but it will not be the same. That is exactly what happened with him and I. He got me alone, and apologized to me for everything he put me through. This is the one thing I will always give him props for; giving me the closure I needed to hear to fully move on. Oh sure, I made a fool of myself by pouring out how I felt about him and how I wanted him back. I also kissed him, but the kiss was everything I needed to tell me that whatever was left between us had died out. When I kissed him, I no longer felt my heart skip a beat but rather emptiness. I no longer felt like I was locking lips with someone I loved, but rather someone who had betrayed me, and left me with little explanation. No matter how hard I tried, I could not relive the past and undo the immense hurt he caused me. He was not that sweet boy I dated a year earlier who cared about me deeply and made me feel valuable, but rather someone who dumped me on Facebook and took six months to fully grasp what he did wrong. Nothing was going to change that.
That was my closure. That was what got me to move on. There was also his confession that he was “crazy,” which made little sense to me until the next year where events took place in which I will not write of. Despite the lack of using his name, what had happened was something I will not disclose out of respect of him and everyone involved in the incident. I will say that when I learned of what happened, everything came together and the asinine reasons he gave me for leaving was merely an excuse to let me go for my own safety. He wanted to protect me from himself. That was enough to allow me to gain all the closure I needed to fully move on and accept that he and I just could not be together under certain circumstances.
I would come to learn, however, that sometimes you do not have the luxury of receiving closure from the person. Sometimes people will just do you dirty, and then leave you to pick up the pieces yourself. There is nothing you can do in that situation, but cope with the pain yourself until you can fully move on. You also will have to learn to live without closure, and instead accept that the person did what they did because they are a remorseless piece of shit. More on that in chapter 2.

 

 

Day 2: For My First Love

No matter how much time has passed I will always remember your bright hazel eyes and that blonde patch of hair on your head. You were always one of a kind and someone I will never forget.

Why do I never write of you, then? Well, our romance was one in which words cannot describe. Even as I write this, I struggle to find the right words and tears begin to fill my eyes. Of every guy I have ever been involved with, you are deemed as the one who will always hold a special place in my heart. You had immense love and care for me and proved so with every kiss and touch and that will forever be something I will hold onto in my darkest days.

We could be described as nothing more than, to others, a prime example of love between two not yet blossomed adolescents. We were young, immature, and naïve. We were sixteen yet spoke of the future as though we had a clue. In our eyes, which were blinded by the strong feelings we had for one another, we were inseparable.

I think back to those months with you and think of it as not just a juvenile high school relationship but rather as one of the happiest points in my life. All I remember is butterflies, laughter, passionate kisses, and comfort in each other’s arms. I think of how you would get enraged when you saw tears run down my face and the time you exploded at a group of idiotic boys for stealing something from me. How we could talk hours upon hours about anything and how talking to you felt so natural in a time where I was socially awkward. I think of how I felt compelled to run to you and comfort you when I heard what you were dealing with.

We were perfect.

Sure, it does not excuse the agony caused by you flipping the switch and not desiring to be with me anymore in that summer of ’12. That week where I seemed to have an infinite amount of tears and where food did not seem to stay down in my stomach. Where dark circles remained under my eyes and I had no idea what sleep was anymore. I attempted to go out to forget that we were together and yet the mere sight of our former dating spots triggered those painful memories I so desperately wanted to erase. As did rereading that conversation over and over again and seeing that relationship status that you used to break up with me as opposed to confronting me and for weeks I believed I despised you for hurting me and not even giving a care. You got to run around with a smug look and flirt with who you pleased right in front of my face and there was not a damn thing I could do but cry in private and grieve a once-perfect relationship that fell apart. We were in the same high school for one more year so I faced you and watched you move on while I was stuck hopelessly devoted to those magical months despite how more distant in the past they were.

And for that year I embraced hope to rekindle that flame that was long burned out until my last day of high school came where I received my closure and an inevitable truth hit me; the were no hope of reconnecting for we were not meant to be. We kissed for the first time in months that day and yet there was no sparks or butterflies as there had been the year before. It didn’t matter how things had been because no matter how deeply in love we were or how we once looked at each other like we were each other’s world and spoke about the future because we were not meant to be.

Even if four years has passed and I discovered that you broke up with me not to hurt me, but rather to protect me from yourself and that will forever hold a place in my heart, I ponder if it could have worked out between us if things had been different. That is not the course life chose for us, however, and I thank you for giving me such beautiful memories to have of the first relationship I was in and allowing me to say that I was genuinely happy even if for just six months and all thanks to you. I wish nothing but the best for you.

-Lisa Marie Lupo

 

My Reasons Why-Part 2

Part 2-“Ashley”

 

So you made it to part 2. Congratulations. I know that getting through part 1 wasn’t easy. Neither will the next fifteen. But you won’t regret it, trust me.

We all remember our first best friend. The one we’ve known since before we could even remember. The one who we always played with, slept over at each other’s house, and called when we wanted to talk about something that happened. You grew up together and watched each other change a child who threw tantrums and thought the opposite sex had cooties to talking about crushes and gossiping. Some of us are lucky enough to still have this friend and still get along with each other fine.

Some of us, however, aren’t so fortunate.

You may have this best friend burned in the back of your mind right now, but you may not have spoken to them in years. At one point they knew all your deep dark secrets. You knew theirs too. You know who they had a crush on, the time they did something they weren’t supposed to, and the time they lost their virginity. Despite having this information, you wouldn’t be able to tell me how they are now. Maybe there was a fallout, maybe the other person forgot about you or you with them, or maybe you guys just don’t talk anymore. Regardless, you both grew apart and now whenever you are in a crisis or need a helping hand, they aren’t they aren’t the first one you call anymore.

This one is about a girl I will call Ashley. When I think of my first best friend, I think of Ashley. Ashley felt more like a sister to me. My little sister wasn’t born until I was nine so until then Ashley was like the little sister I never had. My earliest memories were with Ashley. When we were kids, we would always talk to each other and play games. Whenever I went to visit my grandma, Ashley was always there. Spending time with Ashley was a reward for me. I had no friends since I was a loner and bullied all the time. Ashley was the only person I felt comfortable talking to and liked playing with. Ashley introduced me to so many games and movies. Ashley was the only person to really tolerate my awkwardness and obsessions I had. Whenever my family went somewhere, I would ask for Ashley to tag along too. We would pay extra just to have Ashley come along with us. Ashley slept over at my house very often. Once we started getting older these sleepovers turned into having heart- to hearts at one in the morning. We would share fears, insecurities, and things that bother us. Sometimes it got emotional and Ashley and I would start crying for each other. When I was thirteen, I started sleeping over at her house. We would spend a week together in her house. We would play games and have our heart-to-hearts. We would watch “adult” movies like Superbad or Bad Teacher. Ashley was probably the closest friend I have ever had in my life. Ashley and I had a bond I didn’t share with anyone else. We were inseparable.

Or so I thought.

Ashley herself went through a lot. Even as a child I knew she went through more than I even want to speak of. That’s what I loved about Ashley; we seemed to have a lot in common. We both had a lot of troubles to face.

Still, I would sometimes take the heat for her own troubles, and this is where my fallout with Ashley started.

A fact about me that will become essential, especially in this story, I am really bad at confrontation. This must be surprising considering that I am putting out my stories of what people have done to me and how I feel about them in full detail, but it’s true. I am terrified of facing people and telling them off because I am scared of what they will think. It’s a bad thing because it leads to people feeling comfortable with walking all over me and not caring about my feelings.

This was the case with Ashley.

I remember Ashley sleeping over at my house one time when we were kids. Ashley and I were doing something that I can’t quite remember. All I know is that at some point Ashley lost her temper and smacked me. Now this took me by surprise as Ashley never gotten violent with me before. As I filled with tears Ashley quickly apologized and pleaded for me to keep quiet about what she had done. Out of love for Ashley, I kept my mouth shut. Ashley never put her hands on me again, but it was this temper and this dominance she had over me that led to our fallout.

Ashley would always insert rude little comments that hurt me but I ignored it as much as possible because of that ugly fear of confrontation. I enjoyed spending time with her, but it would at times become unpleasant because of her mean-spirited comments toward me. When we played games she would mock me for being bad at it or place the blame on me when we lost. Ashley would tell me to shut up in a loud voice or mock my taste in shows.

What really was a red flag though was Ashley’s rudeness toward my mom and little sister. Now Ashley was from my father’s side of the family. She seemed to really love and idolize my dad and it was understandable. My mom would also welcome Ashley into our home and take us out. Ashley and I developed a tradition of seeing every Twilight movie together in theatres when it came out. It started because my mom took us to see the first one back in 2008. Despite my mom’s caring and welcoming attitude toward Ashley, she still openly despised her. She would make comments about her and accuse her of things she never did. When I asked her why, she never gave me a valid reason. Mind you, my mom had not did anything to harm or disrespect her, so why she disliked her I’ll never understand.

Ashley openly disliked my little sister as well. At this time, my sister was about five or six years old, so basically Ashley disliked a child. My sister loved Ashley and would hug her and attempt to play with her as well. I noticed Ashley would avoid her a lot so I was confused. Then one day, Ashley and I were playing a card game. Ashley had slept over for a few days and was about to leave so we decided to play cards before she left. My little sister, we’ll call her Alexis, wanted to be included too as little kids do. We politely told her that this was only a two-player game. Alexis threw a tantrum until my mom got her out of there. So while this just annoyed me, it seemed to infuriate Ashley. I couldn’t understand why, I mean Alexis was still a kid and Ashley has nephews Alexis’s age. Ashley claimed that Alexis wasn’t well-behaved, yet she was no different from Ashley’s nephews at all. Despite her clear lack of respect for my mother and sister really bothering me, I kept my mouth shut.

Everything blew up months after this visit.

In early 2012, I went to go spend the week at Ashley’s. I began to sleep over at her house more often now. For a long while I couldn’t help but notice a change between Ashley and I. In addition to her rude comments, she didn’t seem so stellar about spending time together. I went to see her for her fifteenth birthday the year before and she played on the computer while I just sat on the bed remaining ignored. When I texted her excited that I finally had a cell phone that could text and we could talk more, she just responded with, “Oh cool.” A huge awkwardness developed between us but neither of us addressed it. I was still sixteen and naïve to the concept of best friends growing apart so I thought that maybe it was just because she was going through something she hadn’t told me about yet. We were due to have a heart-to-heart during one of our sleepover nights, so maybe there we would address the elephant in the room.

For days, of course, the issue wasn’t addressed. With me being bad at confrontation and expressing how I feel, I never asked her why there was such hostility between us. It’s like I was invisible. Gone were the days of games and movies. We watched movies but we didn’t share our little commentary on how we felt about subject matters in the movies or claim hot guys we saw as we always did. When I or her brother would suggest games, she would rather be on the computer or her phone than talk to me when I was right there. I spent my days there bored for the first time ever and was far too polite to admit it. This is where I was at fault. I let my fear of confrontation take over and instead messaged my mom asking her to help me come up with an excuse so I can come home. I also told my best friend at the time, we’ll call her Robyn, saying that Ashley was ignoring me and that I was depressingly bored. Keep in mind, Ashley and I hadn’t spoken about the awkwardness so as far as she knew, there was nothing wrong.

I trusted Ashley with everything, so I let her have the password to my iPod Touch. On my iPod Touch I had Facebook Messenger where I was talking to Robyn about Ashley. My phone where I was texting my mom had no passcode. These facts are going to become very important soon.

One night Ashley and I watched a movie. After the movie, Ashley and I had our heart-to-heart conversation, the last one we ever had. Afterwards, I fell asleep in Ashley’s living room and thought everything was okay now. For once we had a normal night and I didn’t have to face my fear of confrontation.

Or so I thought. I have a faint memory of Ashley waking me up at some point in the night to tell me that I could stay in the living room for the night. Usually, we’d sleep in her bed. Thinking back to it now, her tone of voice was off and hinted that something was wrong. In my half asleep state, I just nodded and went back to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up with a letter next to me. The letter was written on loose-leaf paper and written on it said, “I am sorry.” The letter is still on my bookshelf in my room and for a long while after this I would read the letter over and over and each time would be as equally painful as the first time. I won’t read the exact letter, but basically Ashley wrote that she had read my messages to my mom and Robyn when I was sleeping. She apologized for boring me by “being herself.” Ashley said she just wanted to spend time with me because she loved me and thought I wouldn’t mind whatever we did. She suggested I learn to speak for myself instead of depending on my mother and if I don’t like being around her so much, I should just leave.

After reading this letter, I felt a mix of emotions. I was furious that she invaded my privacy, pained at some of her cruel words, and guilty because I had not approached her about what was wrong. Now that I think back to it, I realize it wasn’t all my fault. Yes, I should have approached Ashley, but she should have approached me too instead of reading my messages while I was sleeping. That was just some sneaky shit that proved to me that I couldn’t trust her either.

What was even more hypocritical was that afterward she took to Tumblr and made passive-aggressive blog posts cursing me out and insulting my mom and little sister. What was really sneaky of her was that I never had Tumblr before so she could assume that I would never see it. I only saw it because one of our friends who followed her on Tumblr told me about it and sent me a link to the posts. It was then I decided to forget her and move on with my life.

She was rather cold anyway. When I left she did not even look me in the eyes or speak to me. The first and only sentence that slipped out of my mouth was a nervous, “I’m sorry for what I said.” Ashley shrugged at me and no more words were shared. The most we exchanged after that was an awkward forced hug. I have not seen Ashley in person since then.

For a long while, I despised Ashley. I hated that she invaded my privacy and I hated that she made that post about my mom and my sister on Tumblr. She would also post obvious subliminal statuses on Facebook about how our grandma favored her over any of her other grandchildren. I never posted anything rude about Ashley and her mom or siblings. Even after this, I still didn’t. The fact that she stooped that low instead of just keeping the tension between us made me despise her even more.

I question why she is the one to hold the grudge. I honestly accept my part of the blame. I honestly understand why I should have spoken to her about how I felt and I accept it. If I could go back to four years ago, stop myself from sending those texts, and confront her about it instead, I would, but I can’t. If she is going to hold a grudge she should at least stop acting like she wasn’t in the wrong for reading my messages without permission and for crossing lines she never should have crossed by talking about family.

That next summer when my dad was in the hospital, her brother spoke to my mom on the phone and pushed Ashley to talk to me. The conversation had an awkward pause and I whispered something to my mom since she was right there. After this conversation, Ashley took to Tumblr to write that we had an argument because I depend on my mom to fight my battles for me and yet when we finally speak for the first time in months I get off the phone for five minutes asking what to say. So basically, she once again contradicted herself and did the exact thing that caused our fallout on both of our ends; lack of confrontation.

Since then, Ashley and I have hardly spoke. There has been Facebook conversation from time to time but they were short and felt awkward. We still write to each other on our birthdays every year but it has gone from sweet little messages to short, forced ones. The grudge is still there clearly on her part because her  birthday message for me included that I was the person she “used” to want to be like. Why she felt it was necessary to put that, I don’t know. All I know is that it’s pretty clear Ashley and I will never be close again.

For a long while, I blamed myself. Even though deep down I knew it wasn’t entirely my fault, I felt like I did something to deserve Ashley not wanting to forgive me like I did her. Ashley was the first person that I lost that I was close with.
Over time, I came to accept that some friendships weren’t meant to last a lifetime no matter how close you are. Even if Ashley and I were as close as sisters at some point, and I’m glad we were, we still grew apart.

I still miss Ashley sometimes. It’s gotten a lot easier now, but there have been times where, despite everything, I just wish we can relive the innocent days where we believed friendship could last forever. The days of our games, heart-to-hearts, and caring about each other. I used to wonder if she ever missed it too or if she had moved on for good. Ashley seems happy, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t happy for her. I just sometimes question if she’s happier without me in her life.

What hurts the most about Ashley was that she was family. If you can’t trust family, then who can you trust?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part 2-Ashley Update

So when I wrote Part 2-Ashley, it was the beginning of February and an unexpected event occurred shortly after that that changed everything. I said I had not seen her in years, well that’s changed now. There is a bit more to the story now.

It was February 13th, 2016. I just got back from a party with friends and it was close to midnight. I threw off my coat and hopped into bed. No one was going to bother me. It had already been a long night.

The day before, I found out my grandma was ill. I was close with my grandma growing up, so imagine how I felt watching her lay on a bed in her nursing home, oxygen tank connected to her nose and words unable to leave her mouth. I was full of pain for her and regretted not visiting her enough the past year. Not even on her eighty-eighth birthday because I was too busy working. I prayed and prayed for a recovery. My grandma was always a fighter. She could pull through this and I could spend more time with her.

Unfortunately, this was wishful thinking. Minutes before Valentine’s Day, my grandma passed away.

My grandmother was a loving, family-oriented woman. She always brought the family together on holidays like Easter and Christmas. She attempted to keep everyone together and cool tensions. She was loved by all of her children, grandchildren, and greatgrandchildren.

That meant everyone would be there.

When I entered the room with my parents and sister, the first thing we saw was my grandma’s body surrounded by family.

Naturally, Ashley was there. The same girl I was friends with for nearly fourteen or so years and I were finally brought together again by the death of the woman who was the reason why we were brought together in the first place. We hugged, shed tears, and joked about this being a shitty way to reunite for the first time in years.

That’s how it was for the next week with Ashley and I. For our grandmother’s sake, we put aside our tensions and past issues. We comforted each other at the wake and funeral. We talked as much as we possibly could for those two days. Without Ashley we would not have made it to the burial because she gave us directions to the cemetery and walked us through getting there when we got lost. Ashley heard about my panic attack when we got lost and understood it. When we went to a restaurant after we talked and laughed like the old times. There was a promise of returning to our old sleepover traditions. Though I would love to have our old friendship back, I wondered if it’s possible to go back to the way things were after our fallout.

Part of me wants it. The same level of trust has not been achieved but she’s nice and caring once again and she has more respect toward my mom. We also both understand depression and anxiety.

But is that enough to put the past behind us? Or was this all just connecting with each other based on mutual grief for a woman we equally loved so dearly?

Cleaning Out My Closet 

Well I felt the need to post this because it’s an experience I’ve been wanting to share. I shared an experience through a blog involving this same guy back in April, but this is viewing my experience with him in both a different light and with a new moral. Months have passed, I no longer have any contact with him other than having two or three of his friends on social media, and I have had time to cool off about the whole situation.

I’ve cooled off enough to accept my faults in it, to forgive him for my own sake, and to say everything I am about to say.

We all have that one person or thing that changes us for the rest of our lives. We may experience other things that affect us, but nothing will ever affect us quite like that one person/thing. It will cause us immense pain before finally teaching us a valuable lesson that will cause us to mature.
I believe I had that experience already.
He was in my life for a brief time, yet he affected my life in many ways. Now I know for a fact that I am not, and probably never will be, that important to him. I may no longer speak to him but there’s no doubt he never thinks of me, speaks of me, or considers me as an important part of his life. I would not be considered worth his time enough to write a blog post at 4am on a summer night about me. I am probably just another notch in his bedpost.
Knowing this, why bother writing this? Am I hoping he will see this and come back to me? Is this a way to get revenge on him? Do I hope he feels at least a little remorse?
My answer? None of those. I have no desire to get back at him for all the emotional pain he caused me nor do I want him back in my life again. I just want to share my experience in hopes that it will prevent people from making the same mistakes I did. I would also like to make a certain cause aware that many people are blind to.
I met him in Summer of 2014. I was 18, he was 25. Already, the conflict becomes clear. I, however, always thought of age as a number. Boy, was I right about that in a different way. One moral that we can already pull from this story before it even begins; older does not mean wiser. You could be 25, 47, or even 68, and still be very immature to a point where there are teenagers that have more brain than you. Your actions and lifestyle determine your maturity, not a number.
Anyway, I met him a little over a year ago through a mutual friend on Facebook. I liked a friend of his at the time, but he seemed to be interested in me from the moment we became friends on Facebook. Now, during this time I was in a vulnerable state. I was recently assaulted by a professor and suffering from extreme depression. He knew all this before we got into anything. Still, he made advantages toward me and told me what I wanted to hear. He would constantly compliment me and give me advice to feel good about myself whenever I was down. I began to confide in him more than my friends because he always seemed to know what to say. He also swore he liked me and even that he wanted to be with me at some point. Time passes, I ended up liking him back. I fell for everything he said simply because he told me things I wanted to hear from a guy then. I did not care or find it strange that this guy who had never met me in person and knew me for a very short time already spoke of dating me. He even went as far as joking that he was better than his best friend that I had a crush on. I just lacked so much self-respect at that time that I allowed him to manipulate me and was naive enough to believe he meant it.
Just like me being so naive and me having a bad self-esteem caused me to allow him to take me for granted in hopes that he would like me.
That’s right. I became one of those girls who give themselves willingly to a guy in hopes of him liking them.
For many weeks throughout last fall, I continued to allow myself to be used by this older guy who I liked a lot but had no intentions of dating me. Now this creates the argument of whether or not he used me, which I am sure he will forever say he did not, and it creates the argument of the fact that I had the ability of making my own choices.
I’ll make this clear: I accept the fact that I messed up too. You know what? I’ve accepted that since whatever happened between me and him ended. I will never say he was the only one wrong. I will accept that I should not have messed with him in the first place when everyone warned me to stay away from him. I will accept that I should not have slept with someone and expected him to date me after. I will accept that I should have known he was not looking for anything serious when he said he just wanted a friends with benefits (from anyone in general) before we even got involved.
I accept all that.
But, it takes two to screw up, and my faults here are not as extreme as his.
In addition to manipulating a young girl, he was also aware of me and how I am. He knew that I had a low self-esteem. He knew that I had been assaulted earlier that year. He knew that I was inexperienced. He knew that I liked him a lot and was expecting more, which he had somewhat promised.
Knowing what he was dealing with, he should have stopped it. Sure, I had the choice to. Yet there is one thing that is forgotten here. I did not know better. I repeat, I did not know better. He can go ahead and argue that, as he said so sweetly to me, ‘He was not aware I was not capable of making my own choices,’ yet he does not realize that it has little to do with my ability to make choices. It’s that there were plenty of things about me I made clear to him that he chose to ignore. So while I made the mistake in choosing to ignore that he was not looking for anything serious when we got involved, he chose to not take quite a few things into consideration:
He chose to ignore that due to my self-esteem, I would fall for anything he said. Oh wait, he did not ignore this. He used it to his advantage.
He chose to not put things to a stop when he saw I was catching feelings. I made this obvious, and even spelled it out for him. When I even finally went off on him for things not going as he promised, making it clear to him that I was not comfortable with us not going anywhere other than friends with benefits, he still kept it going instead of deciding to be honest with me or putting it to a stop.
He seems to have ‘forgotten’ everything he said before I gave him what he wanted. He also seemed to make things up as I began to accuse him of using me. He ‘forgot’ that he did say he was interested and that it might go somewhere. He ‘forgot’ that he never said no to us doing anything. He ‘forgot’ that he slickly started it all by doing things I was not comfortable with before I gave in. He claims he asked me if it was okay if we never dated, when he did not. What he did do? Drag along the idea of us dating in the future until he had got what he wanted from me for a while, then claim that he has decided that he is not interested in dating me. Even after, he continued to do it and claimed that it was my fault because he was not a, in his words, a ‘mind controlling mind controller’ (because he has such a way with words) unable to grasp the idea that I may just have strong feelings for him that I could not help. Even if he did so-called like me and did not feel as strongly about me as I did him, a person who truly liked you would stop this because they care about you too much to hurt you, correct? I was too naive at the time and believed he genuinely liked me.
He chose to have me travel to his house in Brooklyn when I live far from there alone at nighttime when it was dangerous on the subway. Oh sure he took me home, very few times. His justifying for this was that he was not allowed to take me home because I lived too far. A 25 year old man could not take a young girl who lives nearly two hours away home once a week but could go to parties until 4am.
He chose to get me into a messy situation and then abandon me. I do not want to discuss this situation anymore, but I will say that though we were both to blame, he did not take the fault. He did not want to use something that could have protected us from it happening even though he should have known better. He manipulated me into not wanting to use it either. While I accept that I should have known better, he, being the more experienced one, should have been more aware as opposed to being so careless about it. To add insult to injury, when he put me in this situation he wanted me to make a decision about it I was uncomfortable with and pressured me to a point where I broke down many times. When I put my foot down and made it clear I would not do it, he left me to face it alone. Such a man.
Other awful things he did to me that I admit should have been red flags of him was never introduce me to his friends and never went out his way to find something we could do outside of being in the house. He also never once would offer to spend money on me at least for food when we were out the first few times. Oh, but he liked me from the start right?
None of those things, however, can beat the overall heartache I experienced from this situation. All I did was fall for him, and I never asked to. You can’t make someone fall for you, but when you are dealing with a naive girl with low self-esteem you should know better than to try and pursue her just to get what you want and leave. I did nothing to him. I gave him more chances than he deserves because I caught feelings beyond my control. I took a lot of pain and still managed to be nice to him because I believe he was worth it. I travelled to another part of New York City to see him. I did not lash out on him. (I eventually did but this was months later after things between us were over) I tried to reason with him even when he said rude, insensitive things that made me cry such as, ‘I certainly don’t want a girl who gets mad over little things’. He made rude comments too when we got ourselves into that messed up situation, being inconsiderate to the fact that I was facing consequences more than him and him still being a little brat about it all because I did not do what he wanted. I needed his support, yet he would say things like ‘if you want to complain about it then you can go through it alone’ and stating that it was my decision to go through with it and therefore I deserved to deal with it alone and he did not have to deal with it. He was always a big gamer and I wasn’t, so I dealt with him making me not feel good enough just because he wanted a girl who loved gaming as much as him. I dealt with his insensitive sense of humor and jokes that made me cringe. I dealt with him hardly acknowledging my existence at his house most of the time to a point where I enjoyed talking to his friend who lived with him more than I enjoyed talking to him. He would use the excuse of him being bad at conversation, yet I am introverted as well and I would never have done that to him. I also waited for him for months, all because I genuinely liked him and was naive enough to believe that he would feel the same way. In addition to him suddenly losing interest in me after I gave him what he wanted, he also used the excuse that he was not ready for a relationship. What does he go and do not too long after this? He gets involved with another girl. This relationship also began during the time we were in that mess of a situation, confirming it meant nothing to him. Imagine being put through all this by a guy you liked a lot just for him to use you but give some other girl a chance. For a long while, I felt like I was not good enough and that is why he gave her a chance but just got what he wanted from me and then kicked me to the curb. I found it interesting too considering his perspective on dating involved him saying ‘people could have sex and date, and the dating still means nothing.’ Oh, and he got this girl to attempt to talk me into doing what he wanted in our situation. That made me finding out they were together a hell of a lot harder.
Point is, though, I liked him. He was the first guy I liked and trusted since an ex-boyfriend of mine from years ago. I had not fallen for someone as I did with him in such a long time. To have him treat me that way knowing how much I went through and knowing how I felt about him made me so furious and hurt that I lost it at times and even questioned my own self-worth. I felt like I hated him, but deep down I knew I still liked him a lot even after all that and that hurt even more. For the first time in a long time, my heart was broken. He managed to break my heart in a different way, however. It was so broken I felt nothing but agony and anger. Any other guy who hurt me gave me closure and came to their senses and apologized to me, then proved they were sorry. He did not.
And I don’t think he ever will.
So here I will say something shocking: I don’t hate him. And though I said the complete opposite to him out of rage months ago, I don’t regret what we did and I am glad I met him.
I know it sounds crazy, but what he did to me and put me through taught me valuable lessons. Because of Rico, I was able to accept that there are fucked up people in this world that will never see what they did to you. As opposed to getting revenge or attempting to force them to see their faults, you have to just let it go and let karma get them. He taught me that as opposed to giving guys chances when they hurt me to an extreme, I should just let them go for my own sake as opposed to trying to change them. He rid me of my naive mindset and allowed me to open up my eyes to the reality of the world. He put me in a situation that, though the outcome was tragic, allowed me to mature as a person. His using me taught me not to give myself fully to a guy in hopes that he will like me and not to fall so easy. I was able to learn to accept that I can’t get everyone on my side even if I am right here.
So I thank him. Without him, I would have still been the naive girl I was a year ago. And I would not have learned that you need to get hurt sometimes or make mistakes on your own in order to learn a valuable lesson. The guy I once regarded as a waste of my time is now the one who will always serve as the person that changed my life. He’ll never know it, and that is okay. I still do not wish to have anything to do with him, I just view our past situation in much more positive light.
I am also writing this as a way to raise awareness to guys like him who took advantage of young girls with low self-esteem. It happens a lot more often than people think, and very often it comes off like the girls fault when in reality someone cannot help that they lack self-confidence, and it is not their fault that the guy manipulates them. It is not as extreme as rape, but it has the same concept as to the guy using the girls vulnerability to his advantage. (and yes, though I say girls I know it can happen to guys too, so guys in this situation can always replace ‘girl’ with ‘guy’) But anyway, it is time to put attention to men who are so desperate for sex that they are willing to manipulate a young girl with low self-esteem and emotionally damage her, then make it look like it is her fault. And I hope my story will somewhat help that cause.
I am much stronger now thanks to this experience. And I would hope the same for anyone who has faced this as well.
So thank you.