Once Upon A Time... The End

In the Back of a Drawer (Edited)

Hidden away in the back of a drawer...

Hidden away in the back of a drawer is a shred of my past love life. It was my first relationship, and his first to. We were in high school and he was a senior. I was a sophomore, the youngest in my class. This put us four years apart in age and that was my first mistake. I learned really quickly that it is ok to have more distance in age once we are older, but not the best when we are younger. When we are younger the things that define the relationships is where we are at in life, and sadly I learned that lesson to late.

The relationship was shiny and new, nothing either of us had ever experienced. We were both in a dark place and we saved each other or at least I like to think of it that way. He got better and started moving past his struggles, but during that process he shoved everything on to me. He found ways to manipulate, control, hurt, destroy, and always get what he wanted.

We were together for almost a year, during which him graduated and moved on. I got him to get his permit and then his license.  So, he could finally drive, which was not something he was ever going to do. Then I got him to graduate, and through the whole process that completely freaked him out because of the unknown that came after.

I remember how freaked out and nervous he was, and how he just didn't know what to do. He had no clue what he was going to do with his life so he didn't want to pass his classes. If he didn't pass his classes he didn't have to leave high school, life would not change and he wouldn't have to move on. Even with all his fears I got him through them so he could graduate on time.

Now he has graduated and I got him to apply and take a college class. I just wanted to get his foot in the door. Who knows maybe he would love it? Maybe he would hate it and wanted to do something that didn't require school. Anything was better than him being home all day hating the house he was in, but not bothering to try and change the situation.

I helped him save up and buy his first car. I didn't pitch in, but I taught him how to do it and the process that needed to happen with the help of parents of course. Finally, I convinced him to get his first job. I helped with the process and convinced him that it was a necessary step. I helped change his life but did he care, no. I helped him move passed the uncertainty, and unknown that is graduating high school.

            The most significant thing that I did was safe his life. When we met, we were both struggling with life, and all the pressures that come along with high school. He was further down the depressing hallway then I was, at the time. He was ready to do the unthinkable and end it all. I got him help, and I got his family to notice he was suffering. His parents were blown away they finally figured out what had been going on with him.

I brought their house closer together and made them remember they had children. Up entail that point it was four different people with different lives. The four of them always had their own lives and never came back to get together or to be a family.

They used their house like a base, but never really a place where there was never more than one-person home. They came home to eat, sleep, drink, and then they would leave. They never really interacted with each other. At least just a little bit. I made them realize they needed to talk to each other. They were really surprised when they found out he wasn't in the best mind state. They thought he was fine and nothing was wrong. I guess at the end of the day isn't anyway?

            When we met I was depressed because my parent's never really payed attention to me, or even acknowledged me. I was just on my own; the lost child; never noticed but there. My dad and I were always fighting over everything under the sun. My mom was always really busy with my sister and was never around. I was also having a hard time at school because I was getting bullied like always.

We met and he gave me what I needed at the time. The relationship was wonderful, full of new experiences and adventures, and loving at first. It quickly turned bad and abusive, he needed to feel better and I guess I was the outlet for him. He started doing late night suicide scares, saying that he was going to end it all and that he just wanted to say goodbye. I would call his mom and she would rush to his room. She would find him sitting in front of his computer playing a video game. It was a way for him the get the attention that he never got, even if he went about getting it in a way that should never be done. 

He would go out of his way to get me to wear what he wanted. If not, he would start saying everything that I already knew. I wasn't good enough and my body was too big in size. When he didn't get his way, he would do everything he could to hurt me emotionally. Until I would give into him because I believed it was the only way to fix it. He would hit my legs never with any real force but always enough to satisfy his abusive nature.

He would manipulate me to wear what he wanted. It was never anything I wanted to wear. I would act only in the way he wanted me to act, and handle situations. It got to the point that I wasn't me. I was living but not really. I had say in what was going on but never really did. I mattered, he loved me but actually only said those things to get his way.

I eventually was done and called it off, I couldn't handle it anymore. I was tired of him seeking attention, the worst part being that he always was. I fell in love and I fell hard because at first it was that dream relationship. I put up with a lot more than I ever would of. If I didn't think I was in love I would have never let any of this go as far as it did.

It took me six months to start returning back to my normal self. It was around the seventh month after we broke up that I realized it was an abusive relationship. The only reason I figured it out was because I was in the bathroom and there was a domestic violence poster in there asking if these things had happened to me in the relationship. I read it and almost all of the things I read on the checklist applied the relationship that I had just gotten out of. I burst into tears at the realization and wasn't able to leave the bathroom for some time.

            It has been two years and he still has control over me in some way or another. I have panic attacks when I see his car, or his parents' cars. I have yet to see him but I know eventually I will, but I hope and pray not any time soon. It has been a blessing that I haven't seen him because of the small town we live in. I'm not healed yet but I am ready to try and move on.

Hidden away in the back of a drawer is my memories of him.  Along with all the stuff he got me during the year that we dated. The jacket he gave me, the metal rose he bought me, and the letters he wrote me. The letters that tell me everything that I did wrong and how I have to fix it, even if it wasn't my fault.

One day I won't think about him again, and I will be able to see his car without freaking out. One day I will be able to throw away the things that are in the back of my drawer. Until then I continue on just pretending that everything is fine, and that I am ok. I know one day I will be okay and that is what drives me forward. I just wish I didn't have to be what I am become because of him.

AN:

This prompt was from my creative writing class. This is extremely unedited... Anyway I hope you enjoyed, please remember to comment, vote, enjoy!!!

Marie