When I was fifteen, I was so thin and so happy with life. Little did I know, when I said yes to being your girlfriend that was all going to change.
It started slowly, the drinking. We were only seventeen when it began. At first, you were just annoying when you drank. Like most people when they drank.
I was so in love with you. You tried so hard to win my heart. I thought you were different. I thought you weren’t like the rest of the guys. I came from a broken home and truly believed men were liars. But here you were, proving me wrong.
As the drinking progressed, so did the anger. The first time you called me a bitch- I was shocked. I could not believe you would say that to me. The first time you pushed me- I was shocked. I went home telling my mom, my best friend, I could not believe what you just did. You began to test the waters. See how far you could hurt me without me leaving you.
But you convinced me. You convinced me I was all the horrible things you said I was. Maybe that is why I could not walk away. Or maybe it was because when you sobered up you would tell me you loved me. And I needed that love. Because I did not have it for myself. I stuffed my face every night out of anxiety and stress you caused.
But the verbal abuse slowly turned physical. So slow that the first time I had a bruise on my stomach I wondered how it came to this. And one night you got so drunk. It was nothing unusual, you being drunk. But this time, you were angry, very angry. When you were drinking, you would get mad in the snap of a finger. That night I honestly do not know what set you off.
You screamed and demanded your keys from me so you could leave. At only 18 years old, I was not going to let my boyfriend drive shit faced. I was not going to put his and others lives in danger. So I ignored your screaming and demands and sat down on the computer chair. I remembering you approaching, gabbing the bottom of the chair, and ripping it out from under me. I landed on my back and it hurt. It hurt my tail bone really fucking bad. In the split second before you flipped it, I remember your face like it was paused on the TV. You had a blank expression and cold eyes. It was scary. That image of your face will forever haunt my mind. That fight was enough to keep me from talking to you- for two weeks.
Now I was not a fool to get back with you. You were very charming, apologetic, and convincing. Yet again, at 19 years old, you were there trying to win my heart. For a month, you were so sweet, caring, kind, and loving. The best part is you barely drank. Until one night, you got so drunk. So fucking drunk. You told me how ugly I was, how I am retarded, how I have fat fingers, to get the fuck out of your house, that you are done with me, etc. I was so hurt and confused. Those words that you angrily slurred to me, “I’m done with you.” Those words hit me harder than I will ever admit. Even the next day, you sobered up, and you still didn’t love me anymore. I begged you to stay with me. I pleaded. Why? How does one simply fall out of love in one night?
A month later you called me up, missing me. So I hung out with you. You told me you are going to the military. Yeah fucking right. You told me you did not want to get back together because when you deploy you do not want any ties here. However, you promised me I was the only one you would talk to until you left. After two weeks of this ‘friends’ bullshit, a girl called you while you slept. I remember snooping through your phone. What I found made me sick. Sick to my fucking stomach. You were snap chatting so many different girls, lying to me about so many things. I was so distraught, so hurt. You might have been an alcoholic, mean, abusive. But this time, this time you were a fucking liar- everything you claimed not to be.
A physical fight later I was sitting in the pouring rain with two broken ribs waiting for my mom to pick me up at two in the morning. I was numb. In that moment, I was completely broken. I understood why people killed themselves. I didn’t mind dying. I wanted to die. I gained 80 pounds from all the stress eating I did when I was with you. I failed two classes because I would stay home and cry (because of you) rather than go to class. I could no longer trust anyone. If one can say all the things you did and turn out to be everything they said they hated, how can I ever trust someone again? And that fucking whole. The whole I felt in my stomach was worse than any physical pain. It was so big and so painful. I felt completely broken.
You, my ex, are a disgusting person. What you did to me was beyond awful. I do not believe in hell, but since you do, I can guarantee that is were you are going. I pray for your future girlfriends. I slightly feel sorry for your sad life. But that is because I am to fucking nice.
If anyone is suffering from abuse, please get out before it is to late. If I did not leave him when I did, I could have ended up dead. Please reach out for help. Coming from me, I promise you there is hope. After I finally got away, I have goals again. I have hope again. I am happy again.