Tag Archives: heartbreak

Inktober Day 10: Ode to my First Love, The Snake

So I posted “Poison Apple” last week and said that it had a part two, well this is the part two. It’s the aftermath of my “Poison” drawing. If you haven’t seen it check it out. It’s my Day 3 submission 

“Ode to my First Love: The Snake”
“After she took the bite, what ensued was months of manipulation and deceit. He had blessed her with words no man had spoken to her in years. Words that, at the time, she wanted to here. Still, words were meaningless without action, and despite her spreading her legs for him every week, he did not seem to keep up with his promise. In fact, the more she had given her body to him, the more he drifted away from her. The more he presented her with the feeling of closeness that intimacy brings, the more she fell for him against her own wishes. She attempted to stop herself, but she lost that internal battle. She sucummbed to the effect of the poison he had filled her with that summer before and fell hard. He was not there, however, to catch her. Instead he began to limit their hangouts to only messing around and saying that he had feelings for her but she did not have what he was looking for. Still, she clung onto him, he did have a piece of her no one else would ever have after all. He knew that, in fact, he knew that she was head over heels for him. He also knew that she was nothing more than a fuck he could keep around until he got bored, so he decided to string her along for his needs. He wrapped his slithering body around her and continued to fill her with his venom to keep her attached so he wouldn’t lose his little play toy. When her demands for commitment he promised to her became to overwhelming, he decided she wasn’t worth it. He left her to give someone else the one thing he promised but never gave her, a relationship. At that time she realized not only had she been played, but that she did love him but his “feelings” were never there for her. Her first love never loved her back, and the poison he filled her with killed her internally.”

Sorry for the flood of art on WordPress, I’ve just become so obsessed with art and am improving so I want to share it as much as possible. For those interested in more of my art, follow lisawolfs_artgram for more. 

I still haven’t forgotten about my book, About Last Night. The preview will be up soon 🙂 

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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.

 

 

My Beautiful Chaos

The cigarette lays in between my trembling fingers as I huff and puff and blow away my problems. I feel tears gathering in my eyelids but I blink them away because you are not worthy of such expression of vulnerability. Your cruel words, the last words I fear that I will ever hear from you, are still playing through my head as I take my last pull. The pull burns my insides, yet it is not as agonizing as the impact of those words you had so brutally said to me. That gentle man I wrote of on my blog last week was not you, for you are nothing but the pain shooting through my chest. The pain that you inflicted when you had told me that your feelings were gone just as I was getting comfortable in your arms. All I desire is to wipe away any memory left of your cruel words and for them to become as the cigarette butt underneath my shoe. I wish to down bottles of alcohol until my liver gives out to keep you off my mind.
We were toxic, poisonous to each other. It always baffled me how one can deliver so much pleasure to your body yet be so venomous to you mentally.
Those mellow days of pillow talk and movies were what I wanted us to so badly be. I craved to be yours, physically and emotionally. For those few nights, I was yours and I genuinely believed that I belonged there.
Maybe it is not you I crave, but your touch and the way you had spoke so gently to me with those bright brown eyes and your eloquent way of speaking. The taste of affection and sensuality I so longed for was in the palm of my hands, yet ripped away so quickly.
The memories I once treasured are now replaced with grief. Greif for something that was hardly even close to a relationship and some one who did not show any remorse to the immense pain he inflicted on me, and for the beautiful chaos that was you and I. Not us, for there was never a point we were ever on the same level, but we were two complex individuals that when collided resulted in the arguments that ensued those beautiful nights and at each other’s throats in chaotic exchanges.
I always say I hate these late nights where sleep does not seem to come to me, yet it is the closest I will ever be to you, again. The smoke I consumed and the nights where sleep was deprived from me except instead of your presence I am cursed with tears and being unable to breath wondering if you are okay and if your cruel words toward me where true.
My friend says it is not you I am infatuated with, but perhaps the chase. Maybe that is true and knowing I cannot have you attracts me to you even more so than being in the arms of any other guy who would not speak to me in such a mean-spirited way or compare him taking advantage my emotions to his sexual urges. The fact that you are out of reach and that you are no good for me is where this wanting to have you derives from. I have a desire to prove all your nasty words wrong and to help you though I know you would not care about the impact your cruel words have on me because I am just that kind-hearted though you seem to believe otherwise. The aggression I had toward you was released temporarily during sex until the tears came out after when I faced the harsh reality that I could let you penetrate me a thousand times and you still would not want anymore than a few minutes with me, but still my heart longed for you and only you.
Maybe I am addicted to this beautiful chaos that was you and I.

Chaos

“You are beautiful”

In the mirror she was hideous. She had scars all over her body and an overbite made up of bright yellow teeth and a plethora of pimples across her body. Her stomach poked a little big and her hips were larger than the rest of her body. Her eyebrows were as thick as the hair on her arms. Her eyelashes, however, were no longer thick as she pulled at them to relieve anxiety. She had the face that reflected that of a thirteen year old despite being twenty. Her light brown eyes depicted a sad, troubled young woman.
Perhaps that is why, the moment any man even remotely attractive called her beautiful, her legs spread open. One stroke to her ego, and she welcomed any intimacy in attempt to boost up her self-esteem.
When she fell into his arms and when he was inside her, she felt wanted.
She felt beautiful.
Until he pulled out and the affection was over. She was beautiful enough to have sex with, but not beautiful enough to pursue any further with.
She sat at home, looking at her face in the mirror. The mascara down her face, her eyes puffy, and her cheeks soaked with tears. His words sunk deeper than he would ever know, outweighing the impact of his claims that she was beautiful.
Pitiful. Repulsive. Unloved. Worthless. That was what she was.
Yet she longed pathetically to feel that high self esteem she felt when he complimented her and gave her the affection she felt she was far too ugly to get anywhere else.
So when he had left her to deal with the agony, the disgust with herself, and the constant belief that he had not desired anymore than what was under her clothes because she was repulsive, she looked in that mirror again.
She hoped to find that empowerment she felt when he had called her beautiful and did things to her body that made her feel beautiful, but instead she saw In the mirror she was hideous. She had scars all over her body and an overbite made up of bright yellow teeth and a plethora of pimples across her body. Her stomach poked a little big and her hips were larger than the rest of her body. Her eyebrows were as thick as the hair on her arms. Her eyelashes, however, were no longer thick as she pulled at them to relieve anxiety. She had the face that reflected that of a thirteen year old despite being twenty. Her light brown eyes depicted a sad, troubled young woman.
Until the next remotely attractive guy came along and called her beautiful. Then, she spread her legs, and the cycle continued.

Day 4: For my Ex-Best Friend/Ex-Boyfriend

There is one lyric that describes the relationship we shared perfectly.
“Maybe our relationship isn’t as crazy as it seems, maybe that’s what happens when a tornado meets a volcano…”
-“Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem ft. Rihanna
That was us, always facing tension, always trying to best each other at self-destructive behavior, always at each other’s throats. Yet I would be lying if I said I regretted a second of it.

You were there for me at the darkest point of my life. A time where my heart was in the hands of a boy who crushed it with his bare hands and when I lost someone I loved so dearly you were the first who I dialed because I knew you would go beyond the “aw that sucks” that everyone else said. You pushed me away from the platform edge when I was tempted to jump in front of a train last year and unknowingly saved my life. You gave me a shoulder to cry on when affection was the last thing I wanted. You taught me how to embrace acting childish and not be humiliated about it. You listened to all of my troubles and doubts and didn’t chastise me for being upset at you. You made our last day as boyfriend and girlfriend worth remembering and you continued to protect me from a distance even after we broke up. You proved you genuinely liked me for me and not just for what was under my clothes. Most of all, you were the first person to ever make me comfortable with being my real self and you showed me genuine care, which is very rare nowadays. 

Even the littlest of things you did, I cherished. You had the ability to make me happy that I could care less whether or not we were window shopping or watching movies just so long as I was with you. You got me to sit down and watch all three hours of Titanic in one sitting, you bought me chocolates when I underwent one of the most tragic moments of my life, you got me into movies such as Back to the Future or even movies I hated such as Jaws, you accompanied me to seeing my all-time favorite movie, The Breakfast Club, when it was in movies last year, you got me into binge-watching Friends when I despised the series at first, you helped me gain friends by introducing me to your own friends who are some of the most amazing friends one can ask for, you would make your way to spend as much time as possible with me every day. Even the things we did together and memories shared when we were just friends, such as when you brought me home when I got injured or when we were male and female lead in a play together, were significant to me. I can go on and on about all of our beautiful memories, but point is, whether we were listening to music on the subway at ten ‘o clock at night, or wandering around Central Park, or exploring that toy store you loved working at, I appreciated every moment of it. My two favorites were that night after your show where we shared our first kiss and that day by the Hudson River last night where we made it official. 

We were just like a movie where no matter what the girl and guy always find each other. Where the guy pines after the girl and it takes a year of her paying mind to other assholes before she realizes what’s been under her nose the whole time. Or that movie where the guy and girl break up but somehow in the end they always find each other and end up living happily ever after. We were like Ross and Rachel where no matter how much tension there was between us we always wound up in each other’s life whether romantically or not. 

Except, despite the story of us reflecting to that of a movie, it did not end as every rom-com does. In regards to our relationship, there is no rekindling of our relationship or hopes of reunion. 

I remember you once told me to stop focusing my attention on the negative and start looking more at the positive side of things and for that reason I have only posted the positive side of our relationship throughout this.

Still that doesn’t excuse you leaving me alone on the train in one of my most vulnerable moments of my life and excusing yourself for it. Nor does it excuse all tee tears you caused me to shed and your accusations of me getting upset at little things that were only little things to you. It doesn’t excuse you growing irritated with me when I could barely catch my breath enough to speak nor how you lied me into tagging along with your family to Coney Island then failing to understand why I was frustrated with you when we wound up just walking for hours and hours. It doesn’t excuse what you did to my sister at the family dinner or how you humiliated me in front of my family. It doesn’t excuse you for failing to accept that I was not religious as I attempted to accept your Christianity or dragging me to church. It doesn’t excuse the emotional pain you put me through when you demanded a break after only two months of dating and how you found any excuse to drag me to church when that was not my way of life. It doesn’t excuse your condescending attitude of yours or when you would act different in the face of another person and didn’t defend me against her poor treatment toward me, nor does it excuse your attitude when it all blew up that night where we released all our repressed negative thoughts to each other on the phone after I showed you support at a show you were in and wound up in tears yet again.  

Yet when I remember what we once had, those are not the only memories I focus on, but rather the ones that bring a smile to my face and remember that you were worth it. That when it comes to us, I regret nothing. I am happy that I was blessed at one point with a friend and with a relationship with someone such as you who allowed me to be more courageous in being who I really am and help me get in touch with my little kid side again. 

Sometimes I wish that we could rekindle our friendship. The romantic feelings have faded away yet it doesn’t mean the platonic love I had for you hasn’t. I still sometimes find myself wondering how you are doing, despite everything and despite my wishes that you just stay away from me. I sometimes wish I could just call you up or text you and we could just talk the night away like we once did and turn to each other in a crisis. That is not, however, the path life chose for us and reality hits me that the relationship we once had is all in the past. The tensions that have developed between us has prevented us from ever viewing each other in the same light again. 

I hope when you remember us not in that negative light, however, but rather as I do with my first relationship from years ago. I hope that you know my feelings were genuine and that I enjoyed every second as much as you did. I hope you live with no regrets and know it was not meant to be. I hope you know I wished to never hurt you with what I had done after we stopped talking. I hope your perception of me has not changed as mine had not of you and that when you look back at our memories, you will still have a smile on your face. I hope you know I will always care for you as you do me and wish nothing but happiness for you. I hope that as you grow and mature you find someone who will make you happy one day, because you deserve it. 
-Lisa Marie Wolf

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 naĂŻve. 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

 

To A Special Someone 

Dear XXXX,
Are you happy? 

You get to prance around with your girl, or whatever you have now if you realized she was a psycho, unaffected by the long-lasting impact what you did has caused me.

You were the first, and so far only guy I loved. The word “fuck buddies” used to leave a bad taste in my mouth when describing you to people because in my eyes you were so much more, and yet now it’s all I tell people we were because it’s easier than telling people how it felt to kiss you under the stars or how much I smiled whenever you texted me.

At one point or the other, the roles were switched and it was you that swore you had a thing for me. Maybe that was true, but my attention was elsewhere. All I know is that summer of 2014 I had suddenly took a liking for you. Was it the way you called me beautiful, or the way you kissed me in the rain by the Hudson River? Either way, I fell and fell hard for you. I would come to realize any old boy can call you beautiful or persuade you he want to be with you but I was eighteen and did not know any better. 

I think about your eyes, your little smirk, your soft lips and oh god do I wish to rewind to that lovely summer and fall nearly two years ago and relive it all. I don’t even regret a single moment with you despite all the despair it came with. 

“He’s just a dumb boy.” To me you were so much more. You were my reason to wake up every morning. You were the smile on my face and the beat of my heart. You were distinctive to any other guy I have met so far in my life. You were my friend, you were loyal and you would care enough to talk to me every day for months and months and get lowkey jealous when you saw me close with someone else. You did perhaps feel something too, or maybe it is just my perception that is blinded by love for you that is romanticizing even the littlest of things you did for me. 

You were always the tears I shed for you each night. You were the influence of the darkest days of my life and the reason why I felt my heart shatter for the first time. You were the dark cloud that stayed over my head as I attempted to down those pills. You were the bruises on my wrists as I subjected to my harmful desires for the first time in a long time. 

You were the first to present to me the cruelty of the real world. The people who betray you, who stomp all over your heart once they have it, those who see a vulnerable young person and use them to their advantage. 

I gave you my body, my time, my love. When you finished with me, you ran off to her arms and left me with nothing but dead hope of me ever being able to call myself yours and with memories I wanted to force out my mind. 

“My feelings are long gone.” Images of you and her. Facebook blocking. All of this while my mind lingered on you and only you and the wounds were still fresh. I briefly found comfort in the arms of another but you were still burned in the darkest depths of my mind. 

You still are or else I wouldn’t be writing of you on a Thursday night with tears in my eyes of every embrace, kiss and painful exchange of words we shared in my head. 

Not a day goes by where I don’t think of you. Even if I have given up hopes long ago of rekindling whatever it was we were and even if I have gained interest in other people since then, I will never forget you. Over a year has passed and I still remember your dark eyes, your cheeks I loved pinching so much, your soft body, the way you loved dark colors, your love for anime & gaming, your introverted nature, your dark sense of humor, how you seldom spoke with emotion, your perverted attitude equivalent to my own, your beautiful smile, how special you made me feel. 

My god, how I wish I could go back in time and do it all again. Be stupidly in love without saying it and have that perception of you again. It wasn’t you, but yet it made me happier than I have ever been in my life. 

But I can’t, it was not meant to be and as you said, your feelings are long gone. You refused me a chance because you were not seeking commitment yet you have a chance to someone else when you were done with whatever you wanted with me. 

For the earliest parts of 2015, and even now, I sometimes wonder if I cross your mind. If you think of my face or pass by a place where we made memories and miss me too. If it pains you to say my name and if you wish to run into my arms again. I wonder if you long to tell me all your troubles and hardships you face as I do with you. 

Have I impacted your life as you had mine? 

Probably not. Probably just some stupid little overly attached vulnerable girl you fucked and nothing more. You have someone now to call your own while I’m left with the scars of what you have done to me. It is easy for you to love again while I can barely let anyone in without pushing them away regardless of how I feel about them out of fear of history repeating itself. 

You don’t care about that because you got what you wanted from me. You don’t care about how I can no longer be with someone without questioning their every motive nor about how someone could grow attached easily than others and how every moment we shared was more intimate and romantic than any moment I shared with any other guy so far. 

I question how can I love again? Will I ever be able to or will I always be reminded of you whenever I do so much as even get close to a guy? Will I stop pushing people away and learn to trust again? Will these memories and your face forever haunt me? 

Will I ever stop caring so much about you even if you are no longer a part of my life? 

Clearly not, as I still write about you after so much time has passed since we last shared an intimate moment together and I still remember you so well and since you have impacted so much the scars still show whenever I have a new chance at happiness with someone else. 

And even if I was too full of shame to admit it and you don’t ever deserve to hear it, whenever someone talks of the first time I ever really loved I will think of you. 

Rico. 
-Lisa M. 

  

My Reasons Why- Part 1

Usually, when you think of your first heartbreak, you think of an ex or a former love. You never expect your first heartbreak, your first disappointment, the first guy to hurt you to be a family member.

Heartbreaks don’t have to be based on romance in my eyes. They could involve betrayal and agony caused by someone you love dearly in a non-romantic way. When this person is someone close to you, someone you have loved with all your heart since the day you were born, someone you looked up to as a role model, the pain that they cause could very well count as heartbreak. A heartbreak is derived from someone who you loved but they let you down.

That is exactly what this person did. I loved this person with all my heart and still do, but he still let me down immensely.

When I was a child, he was the first man I loved. He introduced me to so many things and places, he spoiled me and he seemed to be the only person to understand me. In a world where I was bullied and a loner, he was always there for me. If I ever felt down I would remember that I was his little princess. All of my childhood memories consist of him. Him taking me to parks, to his workplace, going on school trips, and taking me around the city. We would have our own special days where I would take off from school and him from work just to spend time together. Every year we would go to this nice vacation spot in New Jersey where we would go to the beach and go on the rides. He always stuck up for me and went out his way to make sure I was happy. We just had that bond, which is rare with most of my family. I idolized this man so much that not once did his flaws become apparent to me.

Even when he made women cry, or when he would break things out of anger, or when he lashed out, I still saw him as perfect. He was so good to me and he never got physical with anyone so I thought nothing was wrong. Just like how I learned from this man the different parts of the city or about great musicians and how trees live long lives, I learned how to express anger the wrong way.

Obviously now I know it’s wrong, but with me being a child back then, I didn’t know any better. I assumed that he knew best. I tried to follow his footsteps in every way even if I began to notice he was becoming more and more alone and that his mistreatment toward people wasn’t fair.

I’ll now fast forward to when I was fourteen. By this time he and I would still spend time together from time to time but there was also a good distance between us. At this time I was a teenager and already he had stopped carrying me around and calling me princess, and rightfully so because I was fourteen and that wasn’t him. This story will not include any sexual or physical abuse because he never did any of that. There is verbal abuse, which hurts just as much, but that’s for later.

Anyway, I noticed for years that he began to let himself go. He stopped taking care of himself physically and that worried me. He also stopped going out and dropped one of his best friends out of the blue. He and his friend went all the way back to childhood and in my earliest memories he would go over to his friend’s house a lot and they would talk on the phone for hours. We would go over to his house just to watch boxing or hang out in New Jersey. The fact that he dropped this friend without any warning or argument seemed sketchy.

Since I loved him so much even though we were growing apart, I tried to talk to him. I tried to keep that bond going but it wasn’t the same. Gone were the days where he would take me out, gone were the days of conversation, gone were the days of sharing his intelligence with his little did-you-know’s. He lived with me, yet I saw him less. He spent more time alone in a room than with anyone. Going out with him was having my headphones on and praying he wouldn’t lash out or make a crude joke about someone. Conversations were just him making fun of people, which became a bore once I grew older and wanted serious talks and advice. His jokes became disturbing to me. When I came to him for advice, I would get mocked or ignored. A thought began to haunt me. What if he wasn’t perfect but rather an overly angry man who mistreated people and had a childish mindset? What if he had serious issues I overlooked because I was so blinded by my childhood perception of him? I was so fixated on the idea that he was perfect. Looking back now, I realize there was so many red flags to prove he wasn’t.

When this realization came over me, I was devastated. This was like finding out that your boyfriend who you have been with for a long time wasn’t who you thought he was but ten times worse because this was someone I knew all my life. I wasn’t ready to accept who he really was. I refused to let go of hope that he would become the man I saw him as when I was a kid. Sadly, that wasn’t the real him and I learned the hard way that once you see someone’s true colors, there is no going back. When I tried to talk to him, he dismissed it and told me he didn’t care about himself anymore. This disturbing comment, though I didn’t understand it as depression at the time, told me he wasn’t okay and that there was nothing I could do but watch the man I love fall apart and turn into a complete stranger.

One of my worst experiences with him took place in mid-2012. He, for a long while, was feeling sick and had pains in his body. Him being him, he ignored the pain until it became too unbearable. Then one night in August 2012, I was about to perform opening night for this play I was in at the time. After the show, I was informed that he was rushed to the hospital. While I was doing final rehearsals and my makeup, he decided he couldn’t take the pain anymore and rushed to the hospital. Naturally, I cried and cried. I visited him and saw him as vulnerable as can be for the first time ever. The man who I viewed as strong and flawless was lying on a bed in a hospital, too weak to speak and connected to IVs. He was hiccupping and far from himself. I tried to stay strong but I ended up running to the bathroom to break down.

What he had was called diverticulitis. It’s a disease in your colons caused by the consumption of too much unhealthy crap like fried foods and lack of fiber. The diverticulitis kept him in the hospital for two months. Excluding one week where he was sent home because he believed he was cured. He ended up facing sickness and unbearable pain again. I visited him twice but couldn’t get myself to anymore after a while. At one point they had to keep him isolated because he developed something contagious which was even scarier.

Despite undergoing a good amount of weight loss and going through a terrifying two months at the hospital, he still failed to take care of himself. I was sickened to watch what he had become and I still cry for him but at some point I quit trying to push him to take care of himself. I only hurt myself in the process and they do say that you can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. I mean at least I can say that I tried.

Over the years he has gotten worse. Not just health-wise, which I won’t even talk about because it’s too unpleasant, but also in regards to the fact that his insults have gotten worse. He uses words to hurt the whole family. He would try and defend me. If he made me cry or insulted me for things like my depression he would apologize and blame it on having a hard day at work or something. I would think about it and compare it to abuse. Even if he has never hit or beaten any of us and there has been no sexual abuse involved, it’s still abuse. Eventually the apologies stopped because I stopped defending him. He began to see that I was no longer the naïve little girl that sided with his abuse. I would always feel pity for him and still do. I will always love him, but I can only do it from a distance. I long to be able to spend another day with him or be able to turn to him for advice without him judging me or acting cold. I long for him to start taking care of himself because even if he doesn’t care I do. I long to have that image of a happy loving family I’ve always had in my head with my parents, my sister, and I fulfilled. But the more time passes the more I realize that it’s never going to happen.

I can pray, I can beg, I can hope all I want. He’ll never go back to who he once was. That strong, perfect man I once knew is gone and he’s developed into someone I don’t know. All I’m left with is these memories of who he once was that hurts too much to think about. What hurts even worse than anything he says to put me down is the reality that he will never be the man I once knew again.

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.