We had our first fight. Because he wouldn't kiss me. He hadn't touched me for several days. I didn't understand and I was angry. We were supposed to go out, probably to PBs. I scowled at him when he still wouldn't tell me what his problem was and stomped into the bathroom to finish getting ready. I had straightened half of my hair when he came in. I expected him to make up with me. I expected him to explain why he was being an asshole. He did, in a way. I'll never forget the words he said. I was livid and refusing to look at him still, but I stared at him through the mirror when I heard the words that have branded me like the hot iron I was holding. "I'm in love with R." I turned to him in pure confusion and no little fear. His face was a mask of Pain. "Excuse me?" I believe I said. "I'm still in love with R," he said. This time his voice broke and he was teary eyed. I don't think he had cried since elementary school before that day. We had been dating for about about 6 months at that point, I believe. We had already professed our love for each other and I was living with him and his brother. We were happy. I knew about R. She was our friend, his highschool crush. He had loved her for as long as they had known eachother, but she had also friend-zoned him hardcore from the very beginning. And then, at the end of college, he met me. He was head over heels for me, and I him. It was easy to see he loved me as much as I him. This had been our First Christmas together and I got to host my very own Christmas Party - complete with candy canes, yuletide themed cocktails and of course, beer pong. R was there with her new puppy. I was happy and rather inebriated and fell asleep on the couch with the baby pit, blearily wondering why R was crying on the porch with my love. His friends avoided my questions, but I knew he would tell me when he could. He carried me to bed like he usually did when I would get that sleepy. In his arms I asked him, and he told me the truth, as I knew he would. He said that R's current boyfriend was no good(which we all knew - they all were, but this one had a tendency to hit her) and that he had convinced her to break up with him. The other half of the truth he had saved and was telling me now, as I carefully put the straightener back down on the counter. This was why he wouldn't touch me, but also hadn't told me. He wanted to wait until after Christmas, because he didn't want to ruin my favorite holiday, particularly since I had rather recently been reunited with my family. And now that Christmas was over, he was telling me - to be with her. At the party, R had told him she loved him. It was always poor timing he said. She was always dating someone and he never had a chance. Now he did. I was only half aware as I listened to his broken voice. I said nothing. I saw nothing. I made no sound. I simply walked away from him. I couldn't feel. Nor did I want to. He asked me to say something. I tried. I failed. I couldn't think. I couldn't see. I felt Nothing. When what he said tried to permeate the steel barrier I erected in my mind, I stumbled. He made to help me, but refrained himself. He wasn't sure if I wanted to be touched. I didn't. I did. I wanted it to be a lie, a horrible and cruel joke. It wasn't. He gave me space, but was careful not to let me out of his sight as I stood outside the front door and made some calls. He knew it was only a matter of time before I lost it. We both did. He knew my history, although he had never experienced it for himself. He was about to, it was only a matter of time before the Pain broke through. But I needed a form of safety first. I needed someone I could trust. And he was no longer an option. I called his brother, AW - the older brother I always wanted - who loved me and protected me - ever since I cleaned his toilet *wry smile*. I was calm and collected in my explanation of the transpiring events, but AW said he would leave work immediately. He understood. He knew my mental history as well. After I made that call, I walked back inside, but made it no further than the kitchen. I stood there for a moment; staring blankly at nothing, silent, blind and unthinking. I have no doubt all my will-power was going toward the wall erected around my mind, protecting me against the Pain. But it had finally gained enough power to hit me full force. And that's when I screamed. I have never in my life screamed like that before. I pray to God I never will again. All my Pain funneled into the loudest, most agonizing scream of my life. One that seemed to never end. When it did, I reached for the shelf where we kept the liquor. Bottle after bottle I hurled at the floor, leaving major dents in the linoleum, but none would break. I was furious at that. I finally reached for my Favorite margarita glass. It shattered beautifully. And then I yelled. Repeatedly I cried out, "You lied! You said you loved me!" I was still mostly blind from the strength of my emotions, but I saw enough to remember that he was crying in earnest now. "I do," he replied. I looked at him for the second time since he came into the bathroom, "But how can you love me when you love her?" My heart had shattered with the glass and my mind was at the edge of the abyss. I knew it. He knew it. By the time AW got home, my emotions had completely drained me and I was tightly curled on the floor with the broken glass, staring again at nothing - speechless, silent and emotionless once more. AW spoke quietly with his brother before telling me he was there if I needed him. After a while, I decided to be a big girl. I was mortified by the amount of time it took me to sit up. In the end I had to crawl to where AW was in his bedroom. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, patiently waiting and not wanting to startle the broken thing before him. I curled up again next to him and put my head in his lap. He combed my hair with his fingers and I finally let a couple tears fall silently as I decided what to do next. In the end, I called my family and asked if I could stay with them until I figured things out. The man who said he loved me, hovered, willing to do whatever I needed. When it was clear I didn't have the strength to pack a bag - he did. And then he carried it down the two flights of steps as I went before him, leaving everything I had come to love behind. He stood on the stairwell with me as we waited for my parents. I looked at him for the third time then. There were no tears, no Pain in my voice as I told him I loved him. I told him he could always call me and if he wanted me back - I would come. I told him that, as much as I hurt, I understood. He needed to know. He couldn't always wonder "What if?" And I thanked him. I thanked him for breaking up with me before going to her, for being an Amazing man who really did love me. And then I left. My parents took me back to their home and I sat silently through dinner, not knowing what to do. I had just lost it all - again. My sister took me to get a movie. I wanted mindless and funny. We got "House Bunny". Before we started the movie, I went upstairs to use the restroom, but it was just an excuse to call him. I wanted so badly to hear his voice. The sound of his voicemail was a balm for my heart. I told him again that I loved him, that I would always love him. Then me and J started that silly romcom that helped me pretend for moments here and there, pretend it was just another night like any other. I'm not sure if we ever finished that movie or not. Because my phone rang. And it was him. He told me he called R, that she was at a bar by herself, already drunk and it not even dinnertime. He tried to tell her what happened, what he had done for her - but she could care less. He told me he realized in their conversation - that had put her on a pedestal for years and he was wrong to do so. He told me he didn't deserve me back, would not have even called if not for my voicemail, but that he was sorry. I cried and laughed and I told him to come get me immediately. Within half an hour I was in his arms again. Things were a bit harder after that, but we worked through issues as they arose. We worked through everything together. He was my best friend and he loved taking care of me as much as I loved giving him everything he could possibly want. For two plus years I lived with a man who genuinely loved me and treated me better than I had ever been treated before. He was an amazing man. Still is, from what I know. We ran into troubles that neither of us could overcome, nor could anyone in our situation without God. But for the time I was privileged to be his - I loved that man. Always will, in a way. He was a Good man, still is I have no doubt. And even though we have both well and truly moved on - I am thankful to God for the time we had together.
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