Everything happens for a reason. Everything does. We might not know the reason or understand why, and I'm not religious, but I do believe there is some divine and cosmic power that somehow leads us to and through life's challenges. Maybe someone just has a twisted sense of humor.
I've always been the strong one.. the one everyone can lean on and get advice from. And when it happened, it was just awful. When I broke down, my wrath had the strength of a massive hurricane, swallowing up everything in its wake only to spit it back out damaged beyond repair. Nobody understood... A person can only be quiet for so long. A person can only ride the tide for so long.
My life is like a retarded C+ Soap Opera. I moved here to Ohio with my boyfriend and my son from my home state. I think we moved here looking for two different things. I came here looking for a better life. I came here looking to finally start my life. I had my son, my boyfriend, my home.. what else was missing? He came here to go to school, and I think that was just it for him. He always said he wanted to go to school in order to be able to provide for our family later on. Things never turn out like they are supposed to.
I got a job, and I was holding down fort until I just couldn't anymore. I missed my son. I was tired of working all the time and allowing my boyfriend to sit at home with my son and ignore the fact that every second is precious... they grow and learn so quickly. On my days off, I cooked and cleaned like a good housewife should, plus I'm in college, and I wasn't a housewife. I was everything. The cook, the maid, the breadwinner, the mother. Except I didn't have that either. And my son is not his son, so I know he doesn't appreciate the little things like I do. Like the first time my son climbed up on the couch and turned the TV on by himself. It was adorable, and he made me proud because he learned something new that day. Boyfriend said, "oh, cool", and then moved on to the next subject.
Boyfriend wanted a lot of things that he couldn't afford because he wasn't working. I did what I could to give him what he wanted, but I couldn't even afford the dollar menu at McDonalds so I was fed up with his wants. I want too. Eventually I decided that he should work instead of me, because he wants financial freedom and I wanted to be with my son. By then it was too late, there was so much tension between us we were ready to explode. I was stressed out initially because I was working so much, and then I was stressed out because I never saw him anymore.
One day I snapped. I was tired of being tired, tired of being unappreciated. All I wanted was a kind word, or a thank you, but I never even got a passing glance by Boyfriend. So in one heated argument, I just snapped. He never acted like he really loved me. He never wanted to do anything with me. Everyone else in this entire world was more important as he went out of his way to make plans with everyone else. All I wanted was attention. I guess negative attention is better than none at all. I hit him, and I felt empowered. And then I felt disgusted with myself because I knew that wasn't right. And because I loved him. My father hit my mother and I until we could get away from him. The last thing I want is to be like that aspect of my father. But I did it again, and again, and again.
I regret it now and I've apologized a million times. I don't regret my anger though because I've never wanted anything except for his affection, and after two years and everything we've been through I was treated with less care than a farm mule. And after I hit him, I sort of knew that I'd never be given that affection again. I left at that point and went to stay with a friend for a while to try and figure out how to handle the situation. During that time I called and told him that I knew we could work things out. I knew we could be ourselves again if we just nurture our relationship and tend to each others needs like we used to. He told me not to come back home because it wasn't for the best. Eventually he told me to come home, and I'll never understand why because the reality of it all was that he met several girls while I was gone and planned to do all sorts of things with them. I read the text messages... and he described what he wanted with these girls in detail, and I'd rather not think about it because it makes me sick. I confronted him with it all and he said that he wanted to be with these girls, but he couldn't because he loved me. He wanted attention too. So bottom line, I kind of figured that neither one of us feels like the other gives a damn and that's where this whole mess comes from.
I've since learned though that none the hopeful bullshit I try to feed myself is true. Not really learned, because I always knew, but more so accepted. All my boyfriend wanted was to get laid, and after he accomplished that I'm back to being the pack mule. So its over. It's just over. Naturally I want to blame myself because if I didn't hit him, maybe things would eventually even out and get better. At the same time, its evident that he never wanted things to get better, and so it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference.
So if you've read all of that, then you understand where I'm coming from, and that's great. Now, this is where my journey begins. I think everything happens for a reason, as I said much earlier. I think that I met my boyfriend in order to start my own life. Without him, I would never be here in Ohio, and I would never be so motivated to become independent of him and everyone else. This is where my life officially starts. I have to be the best person I can be to be the best mother I can be. So here we go I guess. |