April, Abril, Avril
April is such a hard month for me.
“The last man that I loved, he hurt me to my soul. We were together for six and a half years. I trusted him with everything, and I’ve never felt so low and stupid and humiliated in my life.” - That was my definition of love a year ago.
April is supposed to be this great fun filled month, with tons of birthdays and different celebrations. It used to be fun, and then… when him and I dated it was the beginning of summer, when I returned from San Marcos I took finals three weeks later, and the party commenced. Now when we first started dating we broke up ALL the time, literally. Break-ups lasted anywhere from a few hours to two weeks tops, I was eighteen what can I say? April of two-thousand-and-five was when that relationship started, and by the following year it was something intense and a bit indescribable. I can’t quite pin-point why or what happened, but a year later that April that break-up did something that would repeat itself for the following six years.
I’ve never wrote about this, much less talked to anyone about this. I associate April with an all time low in my life, I have anxiety; I’m in complete defense mode, guarded - walls are up and I just observe. I shut a lot of the world out, I don’t mean to, self consciously I can’t help it, it’s programmed in me. I attempt to let it go, but when it’s something you’re used to experiencing for x-amount of years you learn to prepare yourself for something that’s been inevitable.
2005 - the beginning.
2006 - first time I can actually say my heart was broken.
2007 - I moved back home after having moved out for the first time.
2008 - “I’m not ready for commitment…”.
2009 - I got kicked out from the apartment that I was the only one paying rent at, the day after I paid rent, I packed my entire life into my apartment on my best friends birthday. That’s when my battle with his habit started - I was defeated.
2010 - I watched the man I loved pack up his life and walk out of mine, I was so depressed by the time summer came I was weighing 100 lbs again. I smoked and drank my heartache away, sneaking an occasional maruchan soup cup in. I was out every night, as long as I wasn’t in that apartment I was “okay” I never got a full nights of sleep. We had a three month break up, that was the longest we’d ever been broken up in the history of us. When he came back that July, it was different, he had changed, he now wanted the things I was okay with giving up if it meant having a life with him. He came back with promises of marriage, kids, a home, a life, a family. Things I never asked him to give me, things he wanted to give me out of his own heart. - his habit took over, I lost.
2011 - that was the LAST break-up, April 18th 2011 was the last time I let this man break my heart and walk out of my life, talking half of everything. I call it my common law divorce, I had to find some humor in it, someway to own it and make it mine. I hooked up with him for a brief stint in the beginning of fall, he couldn’t pick me over the other women he was currently entertaining. I stood up dusted the dirt I acquired from that tiny hump in the road and never looked back.
Today is April 22, 2012 4:30 am, it’s been a year and for the past seven months, I have had the most stable, normal relationship I’ve EVER had in my life. I have a man that allows me to be me and voice my opinion and thoughts. I’ve never had that. But, my heart knows what it knows, it can’t forget what it’s experienced. It can’t help but prepare for the heartbreak that’s happened for half the decade before, this is the first time it hasn’t happened, but April isn’t over yet. It’s a sick way of thinking, it’s quite twisted, this is my first time I’m trying to cope, I don’t want to assume let my imagination run wild, when in fear my imagination is my biggest enemy it can feel what I’m scared of. I feel guilty for thinking my boyfriend is cheating, what reasons do I have to think this? I know it’s crazy, he forgot to call me when he was out of town, I can’t get pass it, I want to so bad. I can’t, my gut and my heart tells me he cheated on me, he’s never forgot to call me, ever. No matter the levels of intoxication, which is why I was so upset last week when we argued before bed. I don’t know how to tell him these things, I don’t want him to think I am crazy, I have baggage that I don’t want to put him through he doesn’t deserve it.
Tonight I didn’t hear from him, my imagination is fighting to run wild, my gut and my heart tell me something’s not right… I’m fighting what I know, what I’ve experienced, I’m hoping my instincts just have their guard up, I’d hate for them to be right I love him in a way I said I would never allow anyone to have again. I need to release my demons, I can’t win fighting something within me. I’m scared I’m vulnerable, things I can’t say out loud but I am.
I guess this is the reason why I had a dream that a dog bit me.
These are my thoughts tonight,
Boots.
