I’m Coming Undone and I’m Coming Back Together Again

Our story through my eyes.

We were together for seven months. In the first three I felt so beautiful, so wanted, and protected. At night you’d curl around my body big spoon style and I’d fall asleep listening to your breath tickle my ear. You took me to my first baseball and hockey game. To this day, I don’t know how you did it. You pushed me out of my shell. I’m better as a person for it, thank you for that.

But the seasons changed. We fought over everything. I’d ask you something like: “The girl you just smiled at — you know her?” It was meant to be an innocent question to open conversation. You’d snip at me and I’d back off. You’d later retaliate with “Why are you smiling at our server like that? Do you want his dick?” It became poisonous so fast. The worst was when it got almost physical on a night when there really was no warrant for it. You started having drinking problems, which made me scared and started drinking too. I’m not holding you at fault for this. I could’ve stayed away. I had the willpower, the strength to say no. After nights spent watching you test your border between sober and total shit-canned, making it look fun; I decided I wanted to share that with you. It didn’t always end in our favors. Actually, it never did. I embarrassed you, I fought with you in front of your friends. All with good reasons.

You. Are. A. Total. Asshole! When you are drunk. (I’m sorry, readers. But I have to rip off those rose colored glasses.)

About the fourth month we were together you’d start pinching my arm fat (btw, I didn’t have any. I was toned.) Once, you told me I had to go start working out so my butt doesn’t get too flabby. You told me this right after our session. I mean like, right after. I was putting on my underwear when you said this. You mocked me for how much butter I put on my toast, you laughed at me when I ordered a regular instead of a small. You took this canvas, painted this beautiful picture of me, and then tore it to shreds.

I was in the middle of a mind game built for advanced players before I even knew how to play. All of a sudden this handsome, kind guy was gone. In his place was this misogynistic, racist (I’m Asian, he was white. He hid it well.), entitled prick who would look down his nose at anyone and every one who wasn’t like him.When I saw that this was who you really were, I crumbled. I never played the game, I don’t know the rules. I loved the guy before, I wanted him back. So, I thought I could heal you, heal the maybe existing wounds that made you turn out to be this way. I tried to talk with you on things that mattered like politics, social constructs, and the oppression of blacks. You hated it all. You would “debate” with me until I couldn’t breath. You would try to force your beliefs down my throat, but I didn’t swallow them. I spat them back in your face and raised hell to your argument. I fought to help you until I became suicidal.

At that moment, I called quits. It hurt you. As I looked back at you from the door I held ajar, I saw the tears weld in those beautiful eyes and in that moment I saw him. I saw the boy I spent searching for months trying to reach. It was too late.

Weeks go by, I get a text from you out of the blue saying you really needed to talk to me. I showed up at your place and you pleaded with me to make it home too. In that moment I felt hope swell up in my chest and my own depression clouding my mind. I saw that you meant it, but I doubted it. You see, there was a sliver of a second where your mask cracked and I saw the monster lurking behind it. He stared at me with red eyes that screamed at me to give in so that he wouldn’t have to continue the front. I decided to go for it, and as you can guess; it didn’t work. We went our separate ways.

Summer comes and goes; which means you come back to live here in the fall. We linked up on the first day you were back, and everything seemed better. Then you reminded me of how different we are in small, numerous ways. With a heavy heart, I told you I couldn’t do it again; I couldn’t live through it again. You replied with,

“Let me ask you something -

Did you honestly believe you deserved me? I mean, even for a second? After I came back? You don’t, you never did and you never will. You don’t even know what you’re doing with your life. You need help. Good luck being a teacher, or a nurse, or whatever you’re thinking about going into.”

Side note: I’m going into sonography. There is a very personal reason why I’m going into it. And the fact that you even brought that up made me hate you.

I deleted you on almost every social media we’re on together, all of our pictures, and I blocked your number. I erased you from my life.


Flashing forward to few days ago

I noticed that you were watching my snap stories. I tried three different times to delete you. Snapchat wouldn’t let me, so I take my anger out on you. I tell you to stop and basically to go fuck yourself and you don’t say anything. At that moment, I was thinking I won.


Wrong!

I texted you an apology.

One hour later we’re at a bar catching up.

An hour and a half later were at your place.

An hour and a half later I’m doing the walk of shame. It’s not society’s walk of shame, but my very own.


Now.

I’m writing this because I feel myself spiraling again. When I spiral I go into autopilot. When I’m on autopilot I lose days. When I lose those days, I don’t remember what happened in them. I’m writing so that I don’t forget. I’ll never forget the pain, I still have the scars. But I want to remember the good with the bad. And I want to remember it chronologically.

I’m writing this also for you, reader. To show you what emotional abuse does to someone. Reading this, you know my actions are wrong. Writing this, I know I look weak. But think of it in two ways:

1.) I am a more powerful individual because of this. I have seen the absolute worst out of someone and can now set my standards much higher. I put myself first now.

2.) I was able to forgive him. I was also able to fall in love after him. This part of me, I just now realized, will never change. Going through this showed me that my strength lies in love and giving unconditionally. No one can take this from me. No one can take my being, my soul, my big heart from me.

So, don’t let anyone even attempt to take it from you, reader. Believe in the power of yourself, believe in your inner god. Your body is a temple, YOU are the god it was built for.

Ladies — remember this and accept this as gospel. Love yourself and love your fellow sisters.

Gentlemen — be mindful of what you say to women and how it can be interpreted. You can build up a goddess or you can tear her crown off. Either way, each action has an award.