Monday, October 1, 2012

I want to do something.

The last two-three years were the hardest times of my life.

Not because I couldn't handle what was happening to me, but because I could not get out of it no matter how hard I tried. I tried and tried again, only to fall into the same torturous cycle. I had to wait until something horrid happened, until he did something so awful and painful that I would not allow myself to go back.

And it happened, finally. I was finally free. He tried to capture me again but I ran. I allowed his words to seep into my mind and wash over me, allowed his own words to set me free.

'All my friends think I am dating a whore.'

'You're a fucking slut.'

'I am so embarrassed.'


'I wish I had fucked all those girls and had never met you.'

Things like that. All because I had protected my best friend from a scum bag. It looked like I was flirting apparently. We were all drunk, but he was drugged up beyond belief. I am relieved that his crazed mind was so unable to interpret anything real, it set me free.

...

I lost a lot of friends. They slowly, one by one, gave up on me. I was hopeless and they knew it. They thought I wasn't listening to them when I kept going back, they no longer wanted to support someone so pathetic.

It saddens me to this day, but at the same time I know real friends would have never tried to control me and get angry at me for 'disobeying' them. I understood the concern, but I know if I had cared for someone, I would have never left them alone. I also understand that they stopped wanting to hang out with me because he clung to my limbs wherever I went. He scared them. But... if a friend of mine was alone all the time with such a scary person, I would still not leave her alone. Sometimes I cannot fathom their mindset. I stopped going to them whenever they asked to hang out. Judgmental people piss me off. A lot.

Other friends of mine I had known forever seemed to shrug off what he did to me and continued to try and be friends with him. Despite the sprained arm, despite the terrible words, despite... everything. Sometimes I am angry at them. I am hurt for their lack of concern. Because I would have done something if it were them.

However, I gained more than what I lost. I found out where my true support was. My family and one friend of mine that had been with me to the end. She and I aren't so close anymore, but I do appreciate what she had done for me.

She's heard me cry multiple times. She never gave up on me even when I kept falling for his sugar-coated words. She was definitely disappointed that I did, but it was almost astonishing that she still sat by me and didn't judge me for any of my decisions. She understood what I was going through.

And now that I am finally free, I am stronger. I feel like I am looking at life through different eyes. I have found someone so utterly amazing and he has saved my soul. He picked me up and dusted me off and planted a kiss on every bit of me, sealing every open wound. All that's left are scars that I think about sometimes. Not because I miss that demon, or because I am still profoundly hurt by what he did. But because I am looking at all the things on the side. I am looking at the friends that disappeared into the fog when I was in most need of them, I am looking at the friends that stayed by me throughout the entire thing. I felt alone, but I wasn't completely. I cannot imagine what would have happened if I truly was alone. I am looking at every single thing I have gained.

I gained an understanding. An understanding of people, of life, of pain and of happiness. I gained strength that nobody is born with and I am able to use it every single day of my life. I have stopped being a pushover, I have stopped allowing people to step all over me. I have learned to recognize what caring truly is.

So, I guess all in all. I have gained much more than what I have 'lost.' If I think about it, I didn't lose a single thing.

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