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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1805613-Memory
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by Carlee Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Book · Emotional · #1805613
A journal entry I wrote after I got my heart broken for the first time.
Memories evoke many conflicting emotions. It all depends on the memories that start to overwhelm your brain. For me, it’s both the nostalgic feelings of happiness and sadness.

I can’t listen to certain songs with out thinking about him. He ruined a lot for me, really. There’s a whole playlist of songs on my iPod that I can’t bring myself to listen to for fear that I will start to cry. My mind starts to slip into a trance that causes me to think of how things used to be. And when I hear that song on the radio my eyes instantly roll in disgust and my hand immediately hits the next channel until I find a station that will bring me back to solace.

It really was great being involved with him, but then again, it wasn’t always so great. He subconsciously tortured me. I was always questioning whether or not he was being “good.” With guys, especially young, college frat guys, there is no such thing as being good. I was good though. I was always good. Because I liked him so much. TOO much. That was one of the problems. Which is also why I was so hurt.

I’ll never forget that night he told me he didn’t want to be in a relationship. One of the reasons was because it was Valentine’s Day, and another reason is because I was in complete shock. Even though I knew it was over long before and it was bound to happen but I wouldn’t let myself admit or accept it.

“I just can’t,” he choked over the phone. I thought to myself, ‘Wow, it actually sounds like he’s crying.’ “I just can’t do it,” he continued.

I remember crying so much that I couldn’t breathe and my eyes turned into tiny slits. “Well I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t think I’m worth waiting for,” I managed to make out over my sobs, and I hung up, hoping he’d call back and fight for me. But sometimes hoping isn’t enough. It was never enough with him.

Getting over him was one of the hardest things I’ve been through. I was mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. I deleted his number so I wouldn’t text him when I was feeling desperate. I removed him as my “friend” on Facebook so I would stop looking at his page. A few weeks went by and I was starting to feel back to normal. Until one day I was writing one of many papers I had assigned that week and I got a text from him. My heart started palpitating. He wanted to know why I had to delete him.

It made me realized he didn’t want me yet he wanted me to want him. He wanted to keep me on the side so when he came home from school I’d be there, waiting for him. I may have acted weak, but I’m not that weak.

A month went by and I receive a text in the morning from my sister. A text that made me cry just like I did in the beginning stages of the breakup. He was in a relationship with someone at his school. The person who broke it off with me because he couldn’t be in a long-distance relationship was now in one a month later, at the end of the school year. The aspect that pissed me off the most was the fact that this girl is from Ohio and when school ends next month, he’s going to be in a long-distance relationship. The one he didn’t want to be in when with me.

I was feeling worthless, lonely, and depressed. I was putting myself down so harshly. I looked at the mirror and felt disgusted. If I’m not worth it to this guy, what other guy would think I’m worth pursuing a relationship with, I thought to myself over and over and over again. It ate me up inside. I couldn’t concentrate on my school work. I hardly did my school work and went to class. I couldn’t sleep at night and started to take strong sleeping pills so I could force my mind to shut down for at least six hours. All I wanted to do was lay in bed all day and watch episodes of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Arrested Development, and Curb Your Enthusiasm on my computer. The warm bottom of my laptop felt good against my chest and it felt comforting hearing myself laugh out loud again.

Sometimes in order to understand something, you have to get another perspective. I knew I could count on my friend Rob* to tell me the cold hard truth.

“Alright well you want me to rub your back and tell you it’s okay or you want me to be a friend and tell you what’s up in life?” he asked.

So I told him the situation (half of what he was already familiar with) and he gave it to me straight.

“Just because he established a closer relationship and found something he liked in her, doesn’t mean you’re not good enough, because let’s be honest, there are plenty of BETTER guys in the world besides him. To one of THOSE guys, you’re TOO good. Just because this one guy had a connection with another girl, is not reason to make YOU feel like shit.”

I honestly couldn’t have said it better, nor nobody else probably would be able to, other than my good friend Rob.

Hypocritical asshole, selfish, shady faggot, douche bag, jerkoff, cocky-piece-of-shit are 12 words that best describe him. They replaced what I used to think of him as: “the cutest thing ever” which I remember telling him several times. And I will never relate that description to the person who he is now. He is ugly to me now. Disgusting. After everything he did I no longer see him as cute and adorable. I will always, always fondly think of him… as an asshole. He created the monster in me but fortunately, it’s starting to transform back to a normal human being. The monster finally decided to disappear, just like he did.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1805613-Memory