(But I can't tell you if you turn around and run away ...)
Trying a new way of feeling better: going through and finding short stories that I wrote a long time ago (this one was written about a year ago), revamping, and posting. Flipping the experiences into semi-fiction and taking a look through somebody else's eyes.
Part One of Two? (Maybe three?) right after the jump.
I don't know why I ever believed the fairy tales.
I had always prided myself on being the girl that never bought into the idea of Prince Charming or the Knight in shining armor. Those cliches weren't me. I always adamantly insistent on being the independent warrior, the feminist goddess, the damsel-not-in-distress. I prided myself on being the heroine of my own story. It wasn't until I met Chance that I believed all those things to be true.
When I met Chance everything changed. All my cynicism about true love and happily ever afters came undone. All my beliefs about independence and being my own heroine shattered. The scariest part was that I didn't even care. I threw myself entirely into the relationship, trusting that this person would never break me down or hurt me. I believed he would love me unconditionally. I thought I would be safe from the cruelty of most relationships. I was convinced we would be unbreakable.
I know I'm not the easiest person to be with, sometimes I even have issues being myself. I'm also quite aware that I'm a bit more complicated than the average person. The life I was given at birth is not one that everyone grows up with or has to eventually deal with later on. The life I have lived has been difficult, but has shaped me into the person I am today. It's the only life I have known and for someone to have to integrate themselves into my life is no easy feat. I foolishly thought that Chance could be that person.
He was almost perfect. He wanted me for me, despite all of my own self-hatred. He liked the flaws I disliked about myself. He wanted to get to know all the parts of me that I despised and tried to hide from the world. He wanted to get to know my family. He had plans for his life. He was trying to work through the obstacles that he had come across. He was a little bit broken, but I was too.
I don't know when it all changed, but when it did I was entirely unprepared. Everything I did was wrong in some way. I was never good enough. All of the flaws he had previously accepted were the crux of our relationship. All of my complications he had previously been so willing to accept and adore were now the foundation of his belief we would fail. The way he had treated me as if I was the only person that truly mattered in the world was no longer. It was as if the person I had fallen in love with so deeply no longer existed. He started treating me like just a friend, sometimes even like an untrained dog. I was inferior and depressed. He was angry and critical. Our relationship became one of hypocrisy and empty promises.
It was unhealthy and I knew it was unhealthy. Despite it all, something forced me to resolve to stay. Even though I felt as if I didn't love him anymore and he couldn't care less about me, I stayed. Regardless of all the pain I was enduring, I stayed. Through the worst of the pain, I stood by his side in obedience and pseudo-solidarity. We tried to make it work. I put everything I could into trying to fix it. I altered most of my bad habits in an attempt to make him happy. He promised to treat me better as he once had. For a while it got better and I even started falling in love again.
Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever.
Circumstances got worse. In the process of trying to make things work, I became insecure and jealous of any attention he laved on others. I was constantly paranoid and terrified. Every time I would bring up something that made me feel down or inferior in an attempt to be honest and open, he would react in defense and frustration.
I don't know what exactly convinced me to stay through all of that pain. I kept telling myself it would get better, that my wonderful guy would come back to me. But I think, mostly, I was scared. I was afraid of being alone again. I had gotten so accustomed to being in a relationship, to depending on another person, to being in love, that I couldn't remember how to be on my own anymore. I had completely forgotten my independent self, how I used to be so strong. I couldn't fathom how I had pulled it off.
For the second time in my life I felt completely and utterly pathetic. I hadn't been that way in years. I hadn't felt so useless and depressed since adolescence when all of my self-doubt and self-hatred had set in. What happened to the girl who had so prided herself on being independent and strong? She apparently no longer existed.
In retrospect, I was stupid. I never should have let my guard down so easily. I never should have let myself believe that someone who had supposedly cared about me for so long could accept all of me and everything attached to being with me. I'm a difficult person, it will be a miracle when someone decides to put up with me and actually stay.
Although, if my relationship with Chance had never happened, I never would have realized any of these things. I never would have realized the extent of my self-loathing if our relationship hadn't fallen apart. That being said, I also never would have known what it feels like to be loved, even if it was only a temporary thing. While I yearn for the love of someone else, the reality is I need to love myself first. I thought I did love myself, and maybe I used to, I just forgot how.
Maybe I'm just not cut out for these relationships. Maybe I'm doomed to be a spinster for the rest of my life. Regardless, despite all the pain that relationships have brought me, in some strange way I'm glad they happened. They made me wiser and more resilient. Maybe they've made me harder to get through to for the next one that comes along, but if that person is really the one, they won't mind breaking down all the barriers and working that much harder to stay with me.
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