December was a time of solitude; confining myself in my room, laying in the darkness, crying, thinking why these things had to happen to me. I never left the room unless I was really hungry, to get a bite or two. December was the time I discovered good music, the kind of music that makes you either want to be a stronger person, scream from the top of your lungs or cry a bit more. I lost some weight (even though it was Christmas time), I lost a part of myself and had become a totally different person since then. A part of my innocence was crush and at the moment I didn’t want it back. That pressure on your chest, almost as like an angina; it was oppressing and it barely let me breathe. Every time I thought of him it hurt.
The pain was something I’ve never felt before. It was a deep pain in my chest; sometimes I’d get headaches and I didn’t know if it was from all the crying or part of it: the depression. My eyes were swollen half of the time. My cheeks were salty and unwashed. I didn’t feel like bathing or brushing my hair; and makeup was just the furthest thing I had in mind. I barely felt like waking up, since I found some comfort in my sleep; I could avoid facing the reality through my sleep: I was happy in my sleep. My desire at the time was to be asleep for the rest of my life where there was no sadness, no pain, no reality. I found some comfort in “stumbling” (Stumbleupon.com) and found some new, dark and mature music to accompany my swollen eyes; it was the second comforting thing I had. My book and violin were cornered in pile and all interest in friends were dead.
My mother noticed something weird about me that December. She noticed I wasn’t eating as much and that I barely got up from my bed. She had a feeling that it had to be about him because I wasn’t talking about him anymore or going out with him, so she told me one day: “It’s ridiculous that you’re like this because of a guy. You’re so intelligent! intelligent people don’t get sad like this by simple things as boys”. I felt really stupid when my mother said this. How could I be like this because of a stupid guy? I wasn’t like this. I was always professing self-love and high standards for oneself…what was happening to me? I tried at one point in “shaking off” the feelings; maybe it was all in my head. I started thinking in positive things for a few hours. I got up and took a bath. I sat on my bed and started watching a movie…I started crying…Why wasn’t I deserving of love? I thought.Why can’t I be happy?…then it all started over.
Christmas eve, Christmas day, new year’s eve, new years…it was all the same to me. Classes opened and I had to go back to reality. I tried the hardest to avoid him but he magically appeared everywhere. I had to cross these benches to get to the faculty and he was always there. I tried looking to the ground as I passed, looking straight ahead, even faking a phone call just to avoid any eye contact. I thought “How could he be so blantly happy after what he did to me”, “He is a frigging psycho”, “I was just an innocent girl and he took advantage”. My depression never interrupted my school, since I was so strict and obsessed with my grades. My girlfriend at the time was this very manipulative, double life girl I met in biology. I later discovered she had a species of call girl ring, where she introduced girls to rich men and she received some form of payment, while some girls innocently thought she was just being a normal girlfriend presenting her some guys not knowing that she received money because of it. I genuinely thought she wanted me to be happy; to forget him and go out to meet new guys. She used to tell me: “You’re so beautiful and intelligent. You have to meet some new guy. You can’t spend the rest of your life alone”. I started going out to clubs and bars. I started to go out with guys; some of them she found and presented them to me, some of them I met through that period of wandering.
I felt numb. It’s a weird feeling. Nothing anyone says or does provokes any reaction. It’s like the people around you didn’t have feelings. You just don’t care. The guys I went out with were just pieces of human organs put together in a flesh-like box with clothing. A kiss, a hug, the contact of skin to skin…it was all the same to me. I always told them: “I don’t want anything serious. This is just a game”. I never knew if some of them did actually fall for me…I didn’t care. The intimacy was empty…I just wanted to feel pleasure and nothing else; I wanted to placate myself. I felt this false sense of strength, satisfaction and independence. John number one came, then number two, three, four…even I lost count. And each and every one of them I left to wonder about me. When I got tired of them on a random day I would simply block their contact, erase their messages or pretended they were complete strangers as I passed by them on the streets. I could look at them in the eye and make them believe that I was a stranger, something I never could with him.
Around April or May I had him very far on my mind. After all the guys I was with, I thought that I was definitely over him. I had so much things on my mind that I wanted him to know. I felt like he had to know what he did. I felt angry and upset. I felt I was the one that was going to make him know how he made me feel. Five months since we last spoke I wrote him a direct message on Facebook to meet up on campus one day to talk. We met at the cafeteria and I started expressing him everything I felt with what he did to me; everything I thought in that moment was out. I remember I even drank water a couple of times of all the things I said. He looked at me expressionless and moved his head down. He told me he was sorry and wished he could make it up to me. He even had the intention to beg me forgiveness on his knees in the middle of the cafeteria, but I immediately said no; my intention was not to ridicule him, but to forgive him for me so I could move on. After that we went outside and talked some more about various things; we eventually exchanged numbers again, since I erased his, and agreed to keep in contact with each other.
A couple of weeks after, I saw he had a profile picture with a girl and asked him if everything was going well with him and her, and he told me that it was. He told me that they only had a week going out and he liked her a lot and wanted to take it to the next step with her. I jokingly said “You guys have only a week knowing each other. What if you meet someone else on the way?”. I should’ve seen his answer coming…especially from him: the imbecile and jerk person he was: “I’m sorry but since I really like this girl I would really like to maintain something serious and not hurt her feelings. We can keep talking and going out as friends”. So yeah, he thought I thew him an indirect question at him meaning that I wanted to go back to him in some sort of sick way, but since he only had one week meeting this new girl, he wanted to keep things serious from the start. I was disgusted to think that he thought I had the slightest feeling for him still, but the thing that really struck me was that he was able to “keep it serious” with a girl he had met a week ago, but he spent 3 months dating me and and wanted us to just be “fuck buddies” and he even once told me (while we were 2 months into dating) if I wanted to have an “open relationship” in which we were together but he could be with other girls than me and I could be with other guys than him.
In that moment I realized the mistake I had made in believing we could act like normal adults. I spent three days thinking about the occurred. I can’t believe he thinks I still like him. Who does he think he is? I gave him a chance and he screwed it. He spent 3 months dating me and offered me to be fuck buddies and before that an “open relationship”, and now he’s met a girl for only a week and wants to keep things “serious”.
Summer was beginning and I wasn’t going to let him block the sunlight again.