Bad Love --> [A RELATIONSHIP STORY]

senseiteekay (66)in #life • 8 years ago (edited)

All the recent relationship advice posts have made me remember exactly why I have chosen to stay single.

I broke up with the love of my life about 6 years ago. My first love, which they say is always the hardest, and perhaps so. So hard for me in fact that I've never felt the same love for another person. And I don't think I will.

I have had many lovers here and there within the last six years, and unfortunately for them, being with any one of them has never given me that content comfortable feeling that I shared with my ex. Here's our story.

-A Story of Young Love-

As teenagers go, it's not hard to imagine that we had absolutely no idea what we were getting ourselves into. A Roller-Coaster ride of emotion spanning from lust, to pain. From love, to jealousy. And eventually, from love, to hate.

Throughout almost five years we had our ups and downs but no matter what, even in the end, we still knew that we loved each other. Being "in love" as opposed to just "love" as she always said to me.

We met each other through a friend, who's my best mate and whom was actually trying to scoop her up first (we still laugh about that to this day), and her and I started talking.
At first it was all non-sense. Being that we were cyber kids outside of school most of our conversations consisted of cute little emoticons and lame breakfast cereal jokes. But we hit it off. Of course it took a while before we started dating. Almost a year in fact.

We became friends first. As all couples should try doing. This was great as there were no dramas and only laughs. However I was already falling for her from the start and I had no idea how to deal with that. Being so young I dealt with it in the worse possible way imagined; I planned a party with all of my mates and invited her with the intention of telling her exactly how I felt. This went terribly wrong.

We both got drunk, I explained how I felt (in a drunken love slur), and she reacted with tears. I reacted with anger. I grabbed my skateboard, left my house in a rage, and skated off into the distance.
A friend of mine who was skinny-dipping in the pool chased after me down the road in nothing but a towel. Ah, good times. He caught up to me and convinced me to come home, using the words, "come on man, I'm naked here".
We laughed and returned. When I came back what I found was a good friend of mine was kissing the girl I had fallen for in my own home. That sucked.

A few months passed without talking to each other, and being moody teenagers that go to the same school, we eventually started talking again. In the period that we didn't talk however, we treated each other like shit; not so much her, she was far too sweet (I remember my friends and I used to throw fruit at her group during recess because we were assholes). Somehow, we began talking again anyway. I guess boys really are "mean when they're keen".

At this point I had kind of moved on and was trying to date other girls but I dropped all of them immediately when we started talking again. Sorry ladies. After we first kissed, that was when I knew there was no other girl for me. Most men will never admit this, but we also feel that butterfly feeling when we're in love with someone. It's fucking gross.

The next two years were filled with sex. Lustful puppy dog sex. Kinda disturbing thinking about it at this age as we were so young. And eventually, that was what caused problems. Sex.

Being a horny young lad I was addicted. Honestly. Completely and utterly addicted to sex. I started cheating on my partner, the girl whom I loved, and tried hiding it. Deep down she knew. And deep down I knew she knew. We'd fight, usually for other reasons because trust was lost and yet we'd always make up. We couldn't help it. We'd fight a bit, make up, then make out.

I was turning into a real piece of shit at this point in my life. I thought I had everything. 17, full time job, no authority; I was a king! And everyone around me hated it. I don't blame them. I ruined friendships, repaired them, then ruined them again. A vicious cycle that I'm sure a lot of us go through in adolescence. However what set my journey to maturity apart from others, was her. Every time I done wrong I didn't give a shit, but if I did wrong by her I'd beat myself up for it; usually by drinking heavily and taking whatever substance I could get my filthy hands on. I was also starting to hang out with some bad cats.

We went on like this for a year. Every time we saw each other it was the same. We'd fight, make up, then make out. We were addicted to each other like junkies. We couldn't help but come back to one and other. I got so bad that I eventually broke her. The truth started to come out and all my lies and deceit flowed like a river of puss. I hadn't just broken her but I had broken myself. I had broken all that I'd aspired too as a child and had become the one thing I hated most; a misogynist prick just like my father. I promised at that point that I'd fix myself and change, but of course I'd said that all those times before, and so it was too late.

-The Aftermath-

We both knew it was too late for us, but being the addicts that we were, we tried to fix it anyway. I moved away to try and repair what little of myself I had left and to get away from all the bad influences that surrounded me. I knew I had no will power in the big city and so I moved back to my home town in New Zealand. We were now in a long distance relationship as she was still living in Australia.

We kept up the communication for a while, Skyping when we were feeling freaky, but it didn't matter. Being so far away from her and leaving her with the horrible memories I'd given her, she moved on slowly. I went back to Australia after 6 months to visit her in between my uni studies and even though she put on a brave face for me, I knew, she was gone. What I didn't know is that she had a girlfriend, go figure.

This all broke me again. This time for good.

I felt shattered, that even though I had kept true to my promise and changed who I was, the past couldn't be rewritten. I lost it and went off the rails again, this time I ended up homeless and not even my family wanted to support me. I eventually found my feet again thanks to an older friend that took me in and treated me like a son. I still consider him the father I wish I had.

Still, even after all that had happened, I still traveled back to Australia in the hope to find her again, and I did. But to no avail. Even after a year had passed us by, she still couldn't get over the things I had put her through and I could tell. Every time I looked into her eyes I'd detect a hint of disdain. Still, that old love was there.
We spent a couple nights in a hotel room that I booked for me and my friends on one of my trips back to Brisbane to visit, as I was now living where I live now in Townsville. My friends left after the first night and we ended up sharing the hotel alone for the next two. It was nice. We weren't flirting with each other (maybe a little) but we were mostly just enjoying each others company, like when we were friends in the beginning. We both laughed and cuddled, and she teased me on purpose knowing how much of an addict I am to the female body. That was the last time we ever hung out like that.
We hung out again a year later, but not nearly as intimately. We went to an amusement park and acted like kids. That was the last time I saw her.

It's taken me three years since the last time we saw each other to really come to terms with all of it. In that time we've tried to stay friends but with all the emotional crap we've been through it was always too hard. We no longer talk at all which hurts.

Even though I lived up to my promise that I made her, it sometimes felt like it was all for nothing. After all, she was the only thing I ever truly cared about deep down but was too slow in realizing it. I believe that I'll feel that way about her until the day that I die.

Call me a hopeless romantic but it's true. It's one reason that I don't like dating, I still love somebody else.

-Now-

Now, I feel uncomfortable when a lady tells me that she loves me, or when things start to become serious. I go out of my way to avoid having sexual partners entirely for this reason. I'm probably the only 24 year old male that doesn't use Tinder.
The attachment and the burden of holding someone else's feelings in your hands is just too much for me. I've hurt a lot of women's feelings in the past few years because of this, and to them I'm sorry. If one of you are reading this and didn't understand why I cut you off, now you know why.
Oh and if you're sitting there thinking, "there's no attachment if you're just having sex", you're an idiot. Having sex with someone is the most intimate thing you can do with anyone, no matter what your sexual preference, and unfortunately we act like it isn't.

So, after seeing all of the relationship advice on Steemit and how happy some people are with their partners I thought it'd be a good idea to share something with a different tone. My own personal experience of loving someone. Something for all those broken hearts out there. It's not to destroy anyone's hopes at love but instead to show you how ugly relationships can be (and don't tell me they aren't, because we've all been there) and to show you that being single is absolutely fine.

Being single for the past few years, especially as I reach my prime, has given me all the time in the world to keep on perfecting myself. Everyday I become a greater version of myself and I like to think that my ex-lover was the one that sparked that journey. If she's reading this now, I just want to thank you. Truly. Without her, I'd be another ignorant drop out doing nothing with his head except smashing beer cans with it.

I hope you guys enjoyed the read, hopefully not too depressing, maybe some of you can take something away from my life experience.

Peace and Love

(I'd post a photo of her and I together but I no longer have any and I have no means to ask for her permission, so here I am instead)