It’s My Fault She Was Hit

My life is like a really bad written soap opera. Who ever is writing the script needs to do a rewrite, because I’m honestly tired. And it’s getting too out of hand.

I was at work when my mom texted me saying that my ex’s mom wanted to talk to her in person. It was rather strange for me. Immediately all the thoughts flooded to my head, did she find out? Did she see something online about me? Did she see me celebrate my birthday?

When you don’t know the facts the mind can be one of the most creative places ever to exist. That’s where my mind went to. My deepest fears.

She then asked if we could talk when I got home. I messaged her yes while I was shaking my head no. Was I about to come out? I prepped myself. What was I going to say? How was I going to tell my side of the story? How was I going to explain it?

I got home and things were more quiet than usual. As if someone sound proofed the rest of the world from our home.

She was ready at the kitchen table. Calm. Gathered. I sat on the other side. She had been crying. I could tell by the way her eyes look. Tired, concerned, and irritated.

What came out of her mouth next was not what I had rehearsed on the drive home.

My ex’s father had hit my ex. Across the face. Bloody nose and everything.

I felt cold. I felt terror. I felt like I should have been the one to take the blow. I deserved it anyway. I put her in the line of Fire. I used her as a road block, as a speed bump, something to help me run and hide from who I really am.

I asked her why. What happened? I could barley manage the words out of my mouth. It was dry. I needed water. I felt faint. I almost threw up.

She told me that she’s been sad ever since our break up. She’d been depressed. She’s been missing.. me. She’s been angry, furious. Why? At who? Her father. Because I put that in her head. Because I told her things weren’t going to work out because her father was too over protective. Because he would never let her spend time with me. Because he would never let me go over. Because he would never let me see her. Because he ruined our relationship.

It’s my fault she was hit.

It’s my fault she took too much and finally screamed her guts out to her abusive father.

It was my fault he didn’t take it well. I turned her against him. I did.

It’s my fault.

I feel like all this time I’ve been carrying gallons of gasoline, but it’s been leaking for the longest time and everything behind me is now catching fire.

When will the fire catch up to me?

Empty.

What a fucking Monday.

I woke up feeling good today. I was going to conquer the world and make it mine. Nothing and no one was going to get in my way, and if they were, they had better watch out for I was not going to let them stop me.

Work was good, slow yes, and it dragged a little more that it should have but I still made it through. I had a date to go to after work and I was excited to say the least. This was going to be the fourth time I was going to see this guy that I am dating.

Back story: I just told my mom that I wasn’t going to go to church anymore and she took it better than I thought, yesterday. My ex texted me this morning, I’m assuming because she didn’t see me at church yesterday. I didn’t reply though.

Let me get into the date first. It was bad. I try to laugh at anything. I even laugh at things that I should probably not laugh at. I know who to laugh with though, that’s how I get through life. But this dude does not smile even when he passes gas. Like bro, try smiling a little, it will feel good! Other than that we did talk a lot. We disagree on everything for the most part. Just because that’s so doesn’t mean I’ll end it. I know that we wont last, but right now I don’t even know how to tell him that, or maybe its just the whole entire situation.

Anyways, I get home after what ever type of date that was and my mom wasn’t home. This took me by surprise and odd since her car was there and she usually tells me where shes at. 20 minutes later she shows up. She gets dropped off by a car that I know for a fact was my ex.

I see her walking up the drive way and I ask her where she was. All she says is that she was out with friends at stores. She didn’t want to say that she was with my ex but I saw her drive off. As she approaches the front door, I hug her. I say that I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I say it but I can see the hurt on her face. She had been crying.

She starts crying in my arms. You know the worst feeling in the world? Its not physical pain. Picture the person you love the most, the person you don’t even want to think about living without, the person that makes your life complete, the person who would give their own life to save yours and yours for them, the person who has always been there for you even when no one else was, picture that person. Now, picture them in your arms, crying, because of you. You did this to them. You hurt them so much that they cry in your arms for 30 minutes. Your shirt is now wet. They aren’t even producing any tears anymore because you drained them out of all of them. They’re finished, done. They cried all they could cry and now all they are is hurt. By you. You did this to them, you hurt them. How do you feel? Do you like that? How does that feel?

Don’t tell me how I should fucking feel, don’t.

I let her cry while I held her. It is the least I can do. Right? She needed to let it all out. And she did. I can still hear her sob in her room right at this moment when my music goes from song after song in between the pauses. I hate hearing her like this. I did that to her.

I told her that I want to make everyone happy but that hurts me, when I try to be happy I hurt everyone else and then that ends up hurting me too. She told me to pray. I’ll do it. If God is real, he will help me right? I have been taught one way and I feel it to be true but at the same time I don’t want it to be true. I have two sides here telling me that their way is the right way and I don’t know which one to chose.

How did I feel about all this? I felt so much pain. I have never felt so much pain in my entire life. Seeing my mom hurt like this, I don’t think anyone no matter how much I tell them, I love my mom, they will never understand. I’d rather feel her pain than have her feel it.

Now I don’t feel anything. At all. I’m like an empty glass bottle. Heavy, but very empty. There’s nothing inside, its all see through. I don’t like this feeling. I need to feel something. Because when I do, then I know what to do, but now, what do I do?

Crime Scene

I did it. I finally broke the chains and now I’m free. It feels so good, it feels like a sense of relief.

 

Yesterday, before I went out on my usual run at the park I decided that I would tell my mom what my plans were. What I told her wasn’t planned though. I was thinking of how I would let her know. At first I thought, maybe when she sees that I am not getting ready to go to church she would ask and I would just tell her. But, I love her. And I know her. I needed to give her time to digest this. I know it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but for me it was.

I put on my running shoes and after filling up my water bottle I looked at her and told her that I wanted to tell her something. I wanted to let her know so she could digest it, not understand it, but respect it. She asked me what was going on, as a concerned mother will always do. I remember feeling evil. Like I was doing something bad, almost murder. I was killing someone. I was killing myself, the person she thought she knew was dying right in front of her.

Her response was not the one I was expecting. She said if I think there is something better out there than the religion we are currently in then I should go look for it, but I wasn’t going to find it. She was calm. I was shaking. She also told me to read our magazines and our literature and that would help me see that this is in fact the one and only true religion. She started rambling and repeating herself, not screaming or yelling though, but I still just wanted to leave. I wanted to run away from the crime scene.

Through out the whole night while I was out running, she would send me articles published by Jehovah Witness. I appreciate how much she cares, she really does. She only wants the best for me and she thinks that she has found it in this religion. I don’t blame her and I didn’t tell her to stop, if this was going to help her feel better that was ok with me.

There was one final text that she sent that mad me cry after I’d been holding it in. Or maybe it was just the situation and everything else? She said, “you know I love you and I would never want to hurt you. If I did something that hurt you or offended you I’m sorry. I love you.”

My mom is a great person. I always hear stories of young people being total assholes to their parents just because they’re parents don’t agree with what they believe in. That doesn’t mean that they don’t love you still, they do and very much. They just don’t agree with what you believe and that’s ok, we don’t all have to be the same mechanical robots.

I told her that she has never hurt me, and that’s possibly the most accurate sentence I have ever spoken. I love my mom and I always will.

Today, I woke up and she didn’t attack me. She didn’t judge me. She didn’t even mention church. All she did was get ready. She asked my brother if he was going and he got ready and went. She went up to my bed when she saw I was awake and it was like I was five years old again. She sat on the corner of my bed and she talked to me. Like her son. Nothing really important, just random things about her chickens and one of her friends having a cat.

I couldn’t have asked for a better moment. It was nice. There still a little bit of doubt in me if I am honest. Am I actually doing the correct thing? What if she is right and this is the Truth? But at the same time I feel so great, free, liberated.

 

Why is that?

 

Thank You, Next

I did it.

I finally had true courage to end this relationship. I’m not sure if it even was a relationship. What ever it was, it’s over.

How do I feel? A little better. But I’m not going to lie here, I do feel a little upset. Some what sad even. I really wanted this to work and I honestly thought it was going to work. We were going to be the best power couple of 2019. But no, it failed. It ended. It’s over.

It’s all her dads fault. Let’s not sugar coat the truth. He got in the way and we let him. He never let her go out, too over protective. What was I going to do or her? I believe myself to be one of the most respectful people I know. I have morals, I have common sense. But sometimes that’s not enough is it?

She cried. Her beautiful cry. Sweet tears dripping down her tan face. Her eyes staring at me in disbelief of what I was saying. I felt terrible. Why would I hurt her like that? What do I hurt people like that? I almost didn’t do it. I almost stopped myself and told me that we could work it out. We could change and make it better . But then I remember how I feel when she can never go out, when I can’t talk to her, all because of her parents.

In the end we shook hands. Like a smooth business deal. Like a deal we made, something that we came to terms with each other. Just like that.

So what’s next? Who’s next?

Whatever This Thing Is

Let’s talk about my relationship.

Or better said, let me tell you how awful what ever this thing I have with this one girl is. Is it a relationship? She’s grown but her parents don’t let her do anything. Religion involved? Nope, none. Religion has nothing to do with it. Her dad is just something that I can’t put in words.

We were going to hang out this weekend after not hanging out or spending time with each other after maybe almost a month. She told her father a week before and then he decides to make a BBQ on and at the same time we were going to go out.

God I hate him. I don’t like him. At all. Can you tell? I don’t want to deal with him, I didn’t. So I didn’t go. Now my girlfriend is all sad and what not because of it. I don’t care. I don’t care about anything involving her anymore.

I just want this to end. I want it over. This relationship has only hurt me more than anything else. More then make me happy. I’ve cried buckets, I’ve been in agony. All this leading to a point of feeling absolutely nothing.

If the situation was different. If her dad wasn’t such an A hole. If she has more liberty. Maybe if she even showed a little more interest in me. But no. This has to end before it ends me.