24 July 2007
♥ and so ends the age of innocence.
I have spent the last month feeling angry, feeling ready to exact revenge. But today I got Leah's message, and finding out that his lawyer had contacted her made everything stop. I didn't hear the laughing CCs in the break room. I didn't hear my boss paging me to come back from my break. I didn't see my purse fall to the floor, I didn't feel myself walking back downstairs.
I knew this was coming, and, as I usually am with events of this nature, I was quite right after all. Today, it finally hit me.
It finally hit me that while I'm stuck here picking up the pieces, he's moving on with his life, pathetic though it may be. I can't sleep at night, and when I do, it's only because I'm tired of crying.
Despite what I've tried to tell myself, he was my first real boyfriend. He was my first love. He was the first person to tell me he loved me and, I think, to mean it. I trusted him so completely. I trusted him with everything, and this is what I've got to show for it.
I have to work at 7 tomorrow morning, and I've been trying to sleep for two hours now. But I can't. I can't sleep because all I can do is think about how the hearing is only a week away. I can picture his face, and when I do, I think of how much I hate him.
I hate him, of course I hate him. But in spite of myself, I can't help remembering all the good times. That night after the movies, when he held my hand and we looked at the stars. Nightly calls from Montana. My first kiss. The first time he told me he loved me, when we were lying in my backyard. Meeting his parents for the first time. The postcards from Mexico. His mom knitting me a scarf. Homecoming. Prom. Our anniversary, when I was sick and he drove down here and brought me my present and sat with me on the couch even though I looked like hell. Falling in love all over again at the Tom Petty concert.
Would I have done anything differently if I'd known? Would things have changed if I'd known that when he wasn't calling me from ski camp, he was cheating on me? Would I have changed my mind if I'd known that he cheated on me before Christmas break? Would I have stood by him if I'd known Leah was telling the truth? Would I have broken up with him sooner? Would we still have been friends? What if this hadn't all come out too late?
So tonight, more than angry, I'm feeling sad. I'm feeling betrayed and abandoned and most of all, I'm feeling alone. First loves are supposed to be bittersweet; you're supposed to be able to look back at them and have fond memories, but will I? Will I ever look at my prom pictures and go, "Yeah, that was a good time in my life"? Most people don't have to file for restraining orders against their high school sweethearts.
And the more I think about it, the more I realize I'm looking for love in all the wrong places, and that's because I've found it in all the wrong places before. What has love ever done for me? The first time still isn't over; now I've got a court date and a head full of things I wish I'd never found out about him. And the second time? Jesus, the next time I fell in love for real, this time with no reservations or hesitation, and look where I ended up... On Zoloft, for Christ's sake. I ended up on antidepressants because I couldn't deal with the stress of losing the one person I've ever loved unconditionally, especially under the circumstances: because "he loved me too much to bring me down with him."
He's seeing someone else now. I hear they're quite happy together.
So where does all this leave me? Hell if I know. What I do know is that I'm stuck in a rut. I haven't even started my summer homework, and the school year is fast approaching. I can't even concentrate long enough to type out a coherent sentence about Tennessee Williams or Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, and I've forgotten every word of Spanish I ever knew except "Corona," and I'm not even sure what that means. And Grendel and Beowulf are currently sitting on my bookshelf collecting dust.
I went from quintessential good girl to 24-hour party people practically overnight. Most people have been hanging out with friends or vacationing with family, but I've been boozing and smoking and looking for someone to love me the way I loved him. All this self-medication was supposed to help, but now I've just got a perpetual hangover and a phone book full of numbers I'm never going to call.
What the hell am I doing with my life?
I knew this was coming, and, as I usually am with events of this nature, I was quite right after all. Today, it finally hit me.
It finally hit me that while I'm stuck here picking up the pieces, he's moving on with his life, pathetic though it may be. I can't sleep at night, and when I do, it's only because I'm tired of crying.
Despite what I've tried to tell myself, he was my first real boyfriend. He was my first love. He was the first person to tell me he loved me and, I think, to mean it. I trusted him so completely. I trusted him with everything, and this is what I've got to show for it.
I have to work at 7 tomorrow morning, and I've been trying to sleep for two hours now. But I can't. I can't sleep because all I can do is think about how the hearing is only a week away. I can picture his face, and when I do, I think of how much I hate him.
I hate him, of course I hate him. But in spite of myself, I can't help remembering all the good times. That night after the movies, when he held my hand and we looked at the stars. Nightly calls from Montana. My first kiss. The first time he told me he loved me, when we were lying in my backyard. Meeting his parents for the first time. The postcards from Mexico. His mom knitting me a scarf. Homecoming. Prom. Our anniversary, when I was sick and he drove down here and brought me my present and sat with me on the couch even though I looked like hell. Falling in love all over again at the Tom Petty concert.
Would I have done anything differently if I'd known? Would things have changed if I'd known that when he wasn't calling me from ski camp, he was cheating on me? Would I have changed my mind if I'd known that he cheated on me before Christmas break? Would I have stood by him if I'd known Leah was telling the truth? Would I have broken up with him sooner? Would we still have been friends? What if this hadn't all come out too late?
So tonight, more than angry, I'm feeling sad. I'm feeling betrayed and abandoned and most of all, I'm feeling alone. First loves are supposed to be bittersweet; you're supposed to be able to look back at them and have fond memories, but will I? Will I ever look at my prom pictures and go, "Yeah, that was a good time in my life"? Most people don't have to file for restraining orders against their high school sweethearts.
And the more I think about it, the more I realize I'm looking for love in all the wrong places, and that's because I've found it in all the wrong places before. What has love ever done for me? The first time still isn't over; now I've got a court date and a head full of things I wish I'd never found out about him. And the second time? Jesus, the next time I fell in love for real, this time with no reservations or hesitation, and look where I ended up... On Zoloft, for Christ's sake. I ended up on antidepressants because I couldn't deal with the stress of losing the one person I've ever loved unconditionally, especially under the circumstances: because "he loved me too much to bring me down with him."
He's seeing someone else now. I hear they're quite happy together.
So where does all this leave me? Hell if I know. What I do know is that I'm stuck in a rut. I haven't even started my summer homework, and the school year is fast approaching. I can't even concentrate long enough to type out a coherent sentence about Tennessee Williams or Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, and I've forgotten every word of Spanish I ever knew except "Corona," and I'm not even sure what that means. And Grendel and Beowulf are currently sitting on my bookshelf collecting dust.
I went from quintessential good girl to 24-hour party people practically overnight. Most people have been hanging out with friends or vacationing with family, but I've been boozing and smoking and looking for someone to love me the way I loved him. All this self-medication was supposed to help, but now I've just got a perpetual hangover and a phone book full of numbers I'm never going to call.
What the hell am I doing with my life?
7/24/2007
