7 days until I officially turn 16. Wow. And this isn't the best way to start the new year of growth. Or the new week ahead of me for that matter. Is it healthy at all to be like this? It happens to everyone, but I don't like it.
Memories have been dug up from long ago. And recently. One of the memories scares me, because it brought up a whole nother possibility in my head that makes me get a headache every time I think about it. (but that's in my other blog, mindset.mindset.blogspot.com . I don't even wanna write down those thoughts, because I'm not so sure myself. Just all guesses, for the moment.
But something else. I was talking to a friend today, and sad memories came up. She has a handful of them too, I'm sure. But I got to thinking about the mistakes I had made this year. Realtionship wise, when I hurt the one closest to me. Let's call him Bob, because I don't wanna reveal any real names for the time being.
But yeah, I had been confused at the beginning of the year, after being with Bob for the whole summer. I was a Sophomore now. I had things to do, people to meet, everything just confused me. I don't know how that relates to the reason why I broke up with him. Every time he asks me why, when we look back on that time in our lives, I can't give a good enough answer except this - I was stupid. I didn't know what I was thinking, I thought too much, got too far ahead of myself, and jumped to conclusions. I left him, drove him right into a brick wall, and borke his heart. No. Shattered it.
Well, while we were just friends, (Yeah, he accepted to be my friend, after what I had did. I basically broke up with him for no reason. Why was he still talking to me?!) we talked a lot over the phone. About serious matters. Feelings, thoughts, thinking itself, things like that. I don't remember it all, but that whole time I was severely depressed. He was too. He didn't let on that much his feelings over the whole situation, but I know he was. He called me two or three times when he was crying, and once right after he threw up. He wanted my comfort. The first time I heard him cry, I wanted to cry myself. The unconcievable pain in his voice made me realize that I had done something terribly wrong. I deeply regretted what I had done, the immense mistake I had made, the pure shame and guilt I felt of what I had done was suppressing, suffocating. I wanted him to be happy. I hated it when he hurt.
And I realized that I did love him.
During the whole time we were just friends, which was a couple of long, treacherous months, (the coldest winter I've ever had to endure) I grew sure of who I was. Or at least, I started understanding how I thought. Bob helped a lot on that part. He helped me mature. He's been there when my real parents (long story.) haven't been for a while. When no one else has been there for me, he was. Eventually I told him everything, my feelings about him, for him, my hate for myself, everything.
Now that I look back on my life before I ever met him, I realize I was really naive.
He was still uncomfortable, but he accepted my confessions and told me some of his. He still had feelings for me.
Eventually, after some time, we got back together, around Christmas. We're still together.
But I just hate that I hurt him so badly. He still doesn't trust me all the way. 55%, He told me. I've done somet things to threaten his hold on me, but over all I've been oretty good about it. I never want to hurt him again, and I make mistakes sometimes, but not intentionally. Never. I'm trying to be the best I can be. I want to be perfect, for him.
Sooooo yeah, a lot to think about the day before a big test, huh?
Great.
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