I was right. It was the epitome. To this day, it's still my defining moment where I realised my own existence and contemplated bettering myself rather than disregarding everything.
I left that night a little depressed but rejuvinated. What followed brought me back to reality. I had newfound energy. I woke up on time, did my job better, finished college and got a decent grade. Applied to University and gave a shit about my future. My peers at college acknowledged this and got off my case.
The person who was in my old friend group recognised this shortly after and messaged me privately to talk about the past. We started to hang out online a lot, playing games and talking about the past making light of how shitty I was.
My anxiety used to spike hearing information about people I cared about. It still did but I could control it, I had no ill intent just wanted to know they were okay or what they were up to.
I was brought back to the friend group shortly after. I figured I'd have a lot of work to do to get everyone to see me as I was now. But they all adopted me back in with open arms pretty quickly.
A shitty person. Cleansed into something better.
I started to recognise myself as better. Don't get me wrong, I still ran a few times before I could walk. I tried to get back in contact with J to prove that she could be part of the friend group without bad blood but that bridge was charred to a crisp.
Work was starting to pick up too. New staff were employed and I was in charge of training one particular girl who I found attractive. We had very similar interests and after using my subtle attempts at flirting we went on a date together. It was technically a double date as I had another friend that evening who I went out for food with first before going to the cinema with her. I'll call her H.
She was pretty and after the movies I proposed that we go and sit on the beach. So we did.
We sat and watched the waves for hours. Then I decided to kiss her. Of my own accord. We sat there on a cold, windy night on the beach kissing and feeling real.
We called a taxi at something stupid in the AM. I loved her from this moment and we shared something special.
Work became something more. We endured the burden together, smiled together and thrived. I walked her home most nights after work and sometimes we'd stop and stare at the ocean while walking along the seafront. It was truly beautiful.
I didn't care. I treasured the moments of sitting on that bench overlooking the sea, enjoying my life not just because of her but because I had cleaned myself up to be in this position.
I knew. We knew, I mean that it wouldn't last. I was going to University and one night we sat and talked it through. Wondering, lost, what we should do?
A summer romance? Or something serious.
I made the wrong call. I extended it beyond it's expiry date and she was travelling to come and see me and stay with me in my University halls.
Part of me knew, then. This was the end of it. I was too stubborn to do anything about it however.
H showed me how low maintenance a relationship could be and yet I was trying to do too much for someone that didn't need it.
We broke up soon after.
It was hard. I remember not being too pained just moreso missing the feeling of the warmth of sharing those moments together. That was what I craved, those beautiful moments.
My room felt small and claustrophobic. Like the walls were enclosing every night I laid in bed. I felt dirty a lot and would stand in my shower with the rain beating down on my head thinking about my life. I had moments where i'd relapse, feel terrible, go too far or do something stupid. My carpet in halls was stained with sick and I was often (literally) thrown into my room as I was too drunk.
I didn't care. I knew I was fine deep down, I had conquered the darkness and just wanted to live. Dependency was something I thought I still needed and I wasn't particularly bothered by the thought.
I was aware of myself, for the first time in forever. That is a feeling that is indescribable.
