Alright, so I’ve decided I need some closure from what transpired in order to get my mind off of it so that I’m not falling apart and about to burst into tears every time my mind isn’t in solitude for long periods of time (like when driving in the car). I am truly sorry for what has transpired while I was up there, but apologies haven’t helped anything regardless of how genuine they were, so the most I feel like I can do is just explain how I was feeling as the events began to transpire. Hopefully showing that how I came off and sounded wasn’t at all any of my intention, and that what happened wasn’t 100% my fault.
No, I’m NOT shifting blame from what I did, I admit that I did wrong doing, but I can’t ever believe that everything I did was as horrible AND as bad as it came across to me how people were feeling about what I was doing. But I’m going to explain in detail, and I’m sure there is going to be some things in here that you’re going to roll your eyes at, can’t believe I’m saying it, piss you off or even just make you apathetic about everything that happened. That’s fine, I want forgiveness but I’ll never force you to give it to me. I need to get this off of my chest for my own sake of mind, and whether or not you understand forgive me is your own choice.
I’m going to start with the beginning. How my mind was working from the beginning to end, I was thinking of you as a safety net. That if something goes wrong I can fall back on you, but not relying on you to do what I need to do. I don’t want to move somewhere new by myself, I want at least one person I know and can have fun with as a safety net in order to be able to feel safe and secure. And I can safely say that it really felt like you were definitely filling the niche, someone I could trust and rely on without having to support me.
The first mistake I made was moving up without my stuff. I should’ve waited and saved up more money, but I was too caught up in my own happiness at the thought of being with someone so like myself that I didn’t think that through clearly enough and I admit that that is my fault. I should’ve waited a little longer, no matter how eager I was to get out and experience the world for myself.
But I went up there and I met you at the airport and…the feeling was probably indescribable. I didn’t mean to hug you with so much force as to tackle you to the ground, but I was so overjoyed I had a difficult time controlling my own strength. It felt so real for the first time, that not only was I moving out but I was with someone who I knew was going to make me happy. After all we had talked for a solid year about how we were going to be honest, happy, have fun and be ourselves. How unlike other couples if we had problems we would be able to talk about them civilly and because of that we obviously would never have any real problems, and because of all that discussion I was able to come up with clarity of mind.
The second mistake I made was spending my money before I really knew what I needed it for. This was one of the few moments of short-sight on my part. If I had known your aunt was going to start charging money for rent, I would’ve saved that money for the sole purpose of paying here. I would never have made you pay my share of rent, and I’m sure that after I had finished catching up on the rent at the apartment I would’ve paid you back for my share of rent at your aunts.
Despite this though, I was happy at your aunts. Your aunt was barely around and before you got your job I was able to spend as much time as I wanted with you. Sure, we were hiding it from your mother for a period of time there, but you have no idea how awesome it was to have a genuine girl who liked me, was willing to hug me and just cuddle and cuddle while watching TV. Even though there were times you were laying on me so long it even began to hurt a little (pressure from being laid on? I dunno) I didn’t care because it was just such an awesome feeling.
Not to mention, when I was finally able to confess my love for you in person and you reciprocated those feelings? My heart skipped a beat and flew into my throat. For once it felt like a genuine relationship, someone I could actually share my time and happiness with. I was on cloud 9 and nothing could really ruin my feelings of that.
Even your aunt who demanded to be paid and have the chores done wasn’t a bother so long as I had you. When you were gone and I was at the house, when you were working or seeing friends and I was left behind, I did all the chores. I did the chores that were expected of me and I did chores that you had forgotten to do as well. I remember several times seeing you had left dishes out, dirtied around your location and wondering why you hadn’t put it in the sink since your aunt had such a problem with it. But I shrugged it off and cleaned your dishes. I cleaned everyone’s dishes. I didn’t like doing dishes but it didn’t matter whose dishes they were, I did them all. A mentality I was keeping going into the apartment, but one that nobody else shared.
The first time reality kind of came down on me about my decision was when you had to put your foot down, and say that if I couldn’t get a job I was going to have to go home. Honestly, I probably would’ve been fine with this. I would’ve felt fine having gone home if I knew I had the comfort and security of knowing you’d still be my girlfriend even from long distance. But I didn’t. I felt like I would lose you if I had to move back and that was the last thing I wanted, from the girl who had dragged me out of my own darkness and helped me on my feet and was loving and caring for me. So I cried and I admitted to you that I had, because I trusted you and I was being honest. Something we had told each other we would always be. I kept to my word of never lying and always telling you exactly how I was feeling when I was feeling it.
Now that I think about it that was probably another mistake. When I was always honest about my emotions, it came off more-so that I was an emotion driven person, which I am when my emotions are running high. But when I can calm down, relax and reach a level of clarity, I can see through my own bullshit and realize my mistakes and overcome them. But during my emotional moments I can’t reach that same clarity and either need time to calm down or someone who’s willing to calm me.
But I did get the job. I got the Wal-Mart kart pushing job and I was so happy that not only was I about to find myself with a consistent source of income, but also that I was going to be able to stay. I admit that I was originally thinking that Macy’s was going to be my savior job, but after one day after training, I realized how pitiful that job was going to be and was so thankful when Wal-Mart called and hired me.
So for two months, everything seemed fine. We hugged, we kissed, we loved each other, we played games and had fun, watched TV and spent time with friends. We had moments of just us and I was happy. If we had a problem communicating, then for those two months I would attribute that to having to share a room with your mother. Not only could we not feel like we could speak freely around your mom, but we even hid that we were a couple a few weeks from her. Talk about an air of ‘we can’t speak at all’. But when we were away from her and just around people we could trust, it was a lot easier. If I thought up a joke I was able to say it, if I had an opinion I was able to speak it. It was fun and easy.
And I thought that moving into the apartment was going to offer that same level of clairvoyance.
Then it didn’t.
We moved into the apartment and you seemed to be fine. Everyone there you knew and could speak your mind freely with and have fun and enjoy your time with. But I couldn’t. We were always around people I didn’t know, who I barely knew and was trying to get close with, but it felt like literal strangers thrown into a house and that I was adjusting to that fact.
Over time I was able to freely speak my mind with Cory. Cory was an awesome, great guy. Your brother is probably the only person I got so close with while I was up there. I could tell him anything and not only would he be honest, he’d also be sympathetic and understanding, but not just agree with me if I was wrong and would tell me, but he wouldn’t be condescending or harsh. He understood that drama happens and that you have to keep calm and understand it from all views. I honestly was trying to keep that mentality, but if I don’t have an anchor of rationality, then I can lose my grip on it.
Jesse however…I always got the feeling that Jesse didn’t like me. That he WAS a good guy, that he was fun, protective and caring. But that he was putting up a mask for me, and that he was loathing that I was always around. Even if he didn’t hate me, it always felt like he couldn’t stand having me around. When I felt such a negative reaction coming from him, I began to close up. It was the situation with your mom all over again. I couldn’t feel like I could speak my mind, crack my jokes or even be myself so long as he was in the room. I had to be quiet and keep to myself, because otherwise there was going to be a problem. I tried to open up a few times to him, but I kept feeling like my opening up wasn’t wanted by him, that he was just withstanding me doing so.
So if I ever wanted to talk with you, like we had said that we would be willing and happy to do in calm civility, it felt like you hated having to do so. Like you didn’t like the secrecy or privacy of having to talk with me in our room, That if I had something I needed to talk about, all you wanted to do was either run away or avoid the problem and put it off till the last possible moment, when all I wanted to do was civilly take care of the problem then and there. ‘Put my foot down on it’ so to speak. And no I didn’t often have something just fun to talk about in private, but if I had something ‘just fun’ to say, I would’ve said it before Jesse because I felt like it wouldn’t be something personal or private. Course apparently with me even being funny is a personal thing.
On top of that, I can’t help but feel that a few problems began to spring up on your end too. Before I moved up you were basically completely open and honest with me. You had shared your deepest secrets with me before moving up and trusted me to keep them safe and understand. And I did and do so still. You even shared your history of growing up with me, which I greatly appreciate. I shared how I grew up because I felt it would be a good insight for each other. I never had any intention of trying to show anyone else up, or think that nobody was stressed out other than me…
But to be honest I wasn’t sure how to think otherwise. When you would come home from work, I was there and I would try to offer you comfort, a way to relax and de-stress from your job. You told me several times about how you broke down crying at work, and I wanted nothing more than to try and make you feel better. But you came home all smiles, laughing and enjoying yourself. You told me that you were okay and that you weren’t going to worry about your problems of work till you got at work. That gave me the message that you were okay, things weren’t’ bothering you as much as you said they were, that that meant your amount of stress wasn’t bad, and so if I needed to distress I could come to you.
Apparently that was another mistake though. I was doing a job of physical labor at Wal-Mart, that it honestly felt like everyone in the house said was easy and would rather be doing. And I couldn’t understand why when I was coming home, riddled with pain and exhaustion, no energy, and having the only desire to eat and sleep. Chores be damned, I just wanted food in my system and to go to sleep. You never saw me stay up late because my job left me so tired that I just wanted to go straight to bed. With days where my body was in severe pain that I couldn’t walk without it being painful. And apparently I was wrong for complaining about my pain, for thinking that the people who were coming home, happy, smiling, able to stay up late and have fun weren’t having as hard a time as I was. But I was yelled at for complaining, for being tired and not wanting to do the things that were ‘expected’ of me, when I would very happily do them when I had more energy and strength. Though it never felt like I was ever expected to take care of other peoples chores, despite that’s what you do in a shared house.
If there was one time I ever wanted to yell at you, it was simply over a misunderstanding. The day you came home and woke up after having climbed the school, you said how stiff and sore you were; a feeling I was getting constantly and complained at for having felt. But I was fine, I wasn’t resentful for it, and I said as a joke ‘Well hey, now you know how I feel every day after work.’
Later when I heard you complain about how I had said that to you, as if I was trying to be ‘better’ then you, I wanted nothing more than to yell at the top of my lungs “IT WAS A JOKE”. I honestly wasn’t trying to attack you, but lift your spirits a little, that you have it a little easier than I did. But rather then yelling at you, I gritted my teeth and clenched my fist and shut my mouth. I bared the burden of knowing you had mistaken everything I had said.
The misunderstandings I think were the biggest Achilles heel in what happened to us. When I wanted to talk it felt like you wanted to avoid it. You seemed to have the wrong impression of the kind of person I am. When I wanted to apologize honestly for having angered you about the bus and walking incident, you avoided me and slept in Jesse’s room.
…
You slept in Jesse’s room.
I don’t think you understand just how much of a stab to the heart that felt like. I understand that we had broken up as a couple not long before you did that, but I broke up because you weren’t feeling love for me. I was still very-much-so in love with you. And in an ‘argument’, of rather than coming to talk to me and face the problem…you went and slept in another guy’s room.
When you did that…I spiraled into a depression that night. All I wanted to do was talk and you thought of me as some sort of angry monster that was going to yell at you and make you feel like horrible shit for having made me feel this way. And I wasn’t aware of how at all I had given you this impression of me. I certainly didn’t think I’d done anything to make you think I was that kind of person, and I know I wasn’t. So I slept down in the living room that night, because if I had tried to sleep in that room I was going to be sick. I wanted to give up ownership of that room because it made me sick to think of you sleeping in Jesse’s room, unable to trust me and think of me as a horrible person.
I got two hours of sleep that night. I couldn’t stand it, I couldn’t bear it. I walked outside in the cold, in just my pajamas, in 45 degree weather because it felt better than staying in a place that made me want to vomit. Several times while walking I thought about turning around and going back, but my mind said I hadn’t been gone for long enough, that I hadn’t suffered enough to make the vomit go down, so I kept walking. I probably walked around outside in that weather for at least 30 minutes. I walked in it till I started to feel warm, not cold. I eventually wandered inside and tried to sleep, and I did for 2 hours. And then I woke up and couldn’t re-sleep. So I just waited it out and left the earliest I could to wait for the bus and wait at work. Waiting at work was torturous, I kept rechecking my phone to see how on Earth were you going to react to what I had done?
You never did contact me, so I had to wait till I got home. Fortunately for me, I had a wonderful day. Not only was it nice and warm that instantly boosted my mood, I realized how much of a dumbass I was being and wanted to make it right as soon as I could get home. I got to use my favorite device at work, meet pleasant people, be warm and just…have fun with work, something I hadn’t done since I had started. I walked home in high spirits, to find that my stuff had been moved out of my room.
To be honest I found it hilarious and thought it was a nice touch, and that I wish we had talked before doing anything. And you had locked the door, and I wasn’t sure how you did that (which is really why I was eager to find out).
But then you explained to me WHY you locked the door. You were afraid I would have done something with your stuff because you had done stuff with my stuff.
…
Again, when had I ever given the impression that I was the kind of person who would ever do that? I don’t ever touch people’s stuff, even after they’ve touched my stuff. I only ever touch other peoples stuff with permission (or at least if I think I have permission. Like when I thought I had permission to check Josh’s 360 library when I didn’t. I instantly apologized and asked.) and couldn’t believe that you would think I would’ve done something to your things just because you’d moved my stuff. After all it wasn’t like you’d damaged my stuff, and if you had I still wouldn’t have gone and destroyed any of your stuff, I would’ve just made you pay for the damages.
There was a constant theme of you thinking I was being passive aggressive. When I know I’m not passive aggressive unless provoked into being it; I’m active aggressive, if there is a problem I go and deal with it directly unless I can’t. It began to be that I couldn’t confront you directly because you either misunderstood or wouldn’t give me the time of day to talk and explain rationally what I was feeling or thinking, thinking everything I was doing was either a quiet attack or being vengeful towards you.
To be honest it was starting to piss me off that you were thinking of me this way, when I had done nothing to invoke this kind of picture of myself in you. But I was keeping cool and trying not to let it get to me. I made dinner in high-spirits because I figured maybe I could cheer up the mood a little, make things more light-hearted and things could be okay if I just made everything a little cheerier.
It didn’t work.
The very next day I felt you passive aggressively attack me and I’d just about had my limit with you. I honestly wanted to hit you, to smack you right across your face for having been so vicious towards me when I felt like I had done nothing to deserve being barred fangs at. Kind of like an animal being cornered. But I reframed from it, as I knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. But my temper was frayed, and my mind wasn’t thinking.
That ultimately led to the shove. Though it was never meant to be a shove. What I wanted to do was just gently push your shoulder, and with a smile and light hearted voice say “Hey, don’t be so abrasive.” As in “It’s okay, there’s no need to be so angry.”
But my anger turned it into a shove and cold, uncaring ‘Don’t be so abrasive’. And that was it, we had reached the limits of withstanding each other.
I instantly regretted having done it. I knew I had fucked up the moment the words “Then don’t come back!” left your mouth. I tried to genuinely apologize, not just say sorry to try and throw it under the rug as if it had been nothing, but the words you said to me still stick out to my mind.
“Fuck you. You’re not welcome here anymore.”
So it was official. The woman I had loved, had spent so much time with enjoying her presence, who had dragged me out of the darkness and was my safety net, now hated me and wanted nothing more to do with me.
I got to work, I sulked off into the back, and I cried in the bathroom. I never thought I would have an emotional breakdown in the bathroom of a Wal-Mart, but I did. I honestly thought there was no way I could efficiently work in my state. Once I thought I had gotten it all out of my system, I went and talked with my boss about transferring. I had contacted my mom and said it wasn’t working out. I cried again in front of my boss and I did my best to just try and relax.
I went to Barnes and Nobles and I tried to read manga, but at the moment the art style made me think of you. So I found the Calvin and Hobbes section and I was finally able to relax just reading it. A few hours later I decided I need to go into work to finish my transfer papers since I couldn’t do it off the clock. Dad had called and told me I’d be able to stay at the apartment till I left, though honestly going back made me feel sick.
So I worked for about 2 hours, having calmed down and cried my eyes out, and was doing well. But the problem with my job is my mind can’t ever focus. All it could do, and all it did every day, was think about what was going on in my life. So for two hours my mind jumped back and forth on the subject, and eventually I broke down and cried again while at work. I had to go to the back and I just cried and talked about my problems with one of my managers for an hour. They understood far too well for their own good, and were so nice to me in my moment of need. Once I had calmed down again and was able to work, they put me in a different department, one that would have me using my mind a lot more than just pushing carts in the parking lot.
After work was done I had to get picked up, and Doug did. I knew Doug wasn’t happy with me, but I did my best to explain to him how sorry I was…and honestly I think that’s the only reason he doesn’t despise me now. That even though I had just shoved one of the people most important to him in the world, he could see the despair and honest sincerity of how sorry I was for having done it, having been in a situation similar himself back in college.
So I kept to myself. I tried to just pass my time but all I could do was hear you guys talk downstairs, I always heard what you guys had to say and it hurt me like a thousand needles stabbing my heart because this was never what I wanted. I never wanted any of this damage or harm, I never wanted to lose my anger but I did. All I could do was leave and let time pass; otherwise I would never have any piece of mind.
When I tried to say goodbye to you properly, I wanted to use my own voice. I wanted it to be on good terms, but I couldn’t. My heart was in my throat and if I had said anymore then what I did with my voice, I would’ve broken down into tears again right before you, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want you to see me crying, I no longer felt like I could trust you to see me cry. That all you would do is misinterpret it, take it the wrong way, and make me feel even worse for having had emotions.
And that’s a feeling I don’t want to have. Before I moved up there, and even while I was living at your aunts and a little while when we were at the apartment, I fully trusted you. I thought you could handle me, understand me, and knew that if anything was wrong all I would ever need to do was talk about it. Use my words, and never yell or scream or fight or hit. That I only ever go to the extremes when I feel like I’m pushed to the extremes, forced to do nothing else but do that to get my point across.
And of course that never works even if I have to be pushed to that end.
These are my honest and true emotions. My genuine feelings and my genuine apology about everything that happened and why it did, this is my honest to god, last effort to try and have genuine trust in you again, because I want us to be close. I still had feelings before I left, I still have good memories, and I have a year’s worth of logs of us being…well of us being awesome friends. To have that all tossed out the window because we couldn’t understand each other? If I left this be as a horrible, destructive blob of turmoil then it would haunt me for the rest of my life and I’d never, ever be able to live it down.
So please, accept this for what it is. An honest man’s attempt at retribution, and not a plea or a bargain or a pity party or trying to make you the enemy or shifting the blame from anyone. This is how I felt, how I saw, and how I experienced what happened. And if this means I’m wrong, then that’s only because I didn’t have the perspective or guidance to see it from another point of view, I didn’t have anyone who would calmly sit down and talk with me and explain where it was that I went wrong.
