everything I didn't say

forty one

All my life, like every young and growing girl, I dreamed of finding a prince. I dreamed of love and marriage and finding someone that was perfect in every way and never falling out of a micraculous love.

I may be young and inexperienced, but I am not dumb.

I know that love is just something people use as an excuse to care more about another person than themselves. I know love is just a noun and is supposed to mean and express so much but it doesn't. It simply doesn't and there's nothing more to that.

When I hear the word love, used as a term of feeling between two people, my mind shifts to someone in particular.

So I'm going to tell a story. 

I started college at nineteen years old, a freshman majoring in English. I wanted to be a writer, I dreamed of transforming my thoughts and feelings into someone's favorite novel.

 My roomate needed help moving boxes into our apartment one night, almost six months ago. That night, my love story begins when I was introduced to a boy.

He was polite, and easy to talk to. He became a good friend of mine. I soon fell down a never ending hole of feelings for him that weren't always returned.

I didn't care as much at the time as I do now. I let him into my life and past, only to have that blow up in my face. He had secrets. Lots of them. He had recovered from a smoking and drinking problem yet here I found him drunk, burning with me a lighter and smashing my glasses at two in the morning.

He got in a car crash one night, too. I thought I was going to lose everything that night but he survived, and we made it out alright, thankfully.

I was new at the concept of love like everyone is at some point. I had my first love stolen from me in high school and I wasn't going to let that happen to me again in college, too. But it did. Love was stolen from me by this boy who took part of me with him on a plane as he soared thousand of feet above and away from me.

I let him steal it, though. He broke my heart into a million little pieces but I continously picked them up and put them back in his hands. He wanted the upper hand over me and I gave it to him more than once.

I fell too hard, too fast, too soon. I was blinded by 'what if's' and my curiosity to ever slow down or stop.

I would have regretted so much had I slowed down or stopped though. You aren't supposed to keep things bottled up inside you, and for the first time in my entire life, I didn't.

He was worse with feelings than I was, which was both great and tedious. Do you know what happens when you mix two dull souls? Not good things, Small, definitely not good things.

He had a girlfriend. Apparently he had broken up with her for me but he didn't find it important to inform me of this until she died. Yes, his ex girlfriend died not too long ago. This poor girl got hit by a drunk driver and she was killed. It shattered him and he had no idea how to handle himself.

He wouldn't let me help him. He shut down and shut me out and that was it. He refused to speak to me and you know his solution to this? He moved halfway across the damn globe.

I know you've heard all of this story from the view point of your son, but you have no idea how I felt and how I hurt so badly during this. Nobody knows, because I refused to let anyone think for a second that I was as destructible as the shattered glass I was.

I don't mean to sound weak, but god I was weak.

I fell in love with someone who was all I saw. He was sweet, caring, and kind. But he was deceiving, dishonest, and rude all at once. He would say things he didn't mean but expect me to forgive them the next day, even when they hurt so badly. He never took into consideration how much he hurt me, it just piled on and on and he wanted to be forgiven each time. I never won the fight though, no matter why or when, I forgave him.