The First boyfriend
"There was the boy who I experienced most of my "firsts" with. He was the boy I jumped to after clinging to a relationship that didn't exist; the one who tied me down for a whole year, who wrote me love poems, bought me gifts, planned for the future, loved me deeply, and who kept coming around even after I broke him. He was the boy who never thought of himself, who thought we could work things out. I told him we needed to be apart in order to see god more clearly, (which I believed at the time), but I think that I would've said anything to avoid telling him that I was raped while we were still together. He was the one who didn't know."
We began dating, maybe out of convenience, maybe because I had put so much energy into The Prom Date with no return that I needed someone to give me a little affection, or maybe because we truly were interested in the other person. Whatever the reason, throughout the year we spent together, I found myself truly caring for this boy, planning a life with him by my side, but knowing that I would surely crush our plans for the future sooner or later.
From the beginning I had my foot out the door.
The relics from our relationship overpower all the other cards and letters from every other relationship I’ve ever had. Every card he gave me, for every "thinking of you" moment, I kept. Every poem he ever wrote me, the notes he left on my car, the movie stubs, the pictures, are allocated more space in the box than any other mementos. You would think that such romantic garbage would feel oppressive, yet for almost a whole year, it felt freeing. He was the prince charming type, with roses, and kisses, and gifts of "I love you". He wrote about me, talked about me, couldn’t shut up about me, and I enjoyed it. I took comfort in being adored, idolized even. I could do no wrong in his eyes. To him, I was perfect.
For how much love and care there was in the relationship, it was truly detrimental to us both. We both would skip school in order to spend the days together. I would call in sick to work, cancel my plans with friends and family, and ignore the ringing of my cell phone in order to eat and make out in his room. My social life died the minute I became his girlfriend and I allowed it to happen.
We experienced an unhealthy amount of each other, devoid of all other relationships we had cultivated throughout our lives. Our friends and family became nothing more than obligations, as we would shut ourselves in his room, tucked away from the reality of the world. We became everything to each other, which at the time I thought was hopelessly romantic. Only later would I realize the adverse effects it would have on me.
We were also mis-matched in every way imaginable. I was tall and he was short. I was big and he was small. He was old and I was young, etc, etc. And while I believed that we were both strong people, he was really weaker than I was. Everyone knew it but us.
We were both dreamers, only I apparently knew what it would take to reach my dreams while he was content to live in his makeshift dreamland. He wanted me to live there too.
I understood after being with him, how you could lose yourself in someone, how you could become someone else entirely when you were with them. I understood the dangers in closing yourself off from everyone but him.
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