Blinded by life

When I was about 7 ish I started to realize things. Things that kids really shouldn’t have to worry about. But I liked to notice. While every other kid was out playing with friends at parks and hanging out, I danced in the small dust devils that brought the autumn leaves to life.

I started to notice that my parents were very tired. I noticed when someone was not saying everything they wanted. I noticed the same person that had walked from their house to the nearest bus stop 3 miles away coming back late as they walked home. I noticed that “Santa” had a lot of bills around Christmas and didn’t know how they would pay it back.

While my siblings were busy figuring out how they would ditch school today, I was more interested in how to videos for creating gardens inside. Decorating so the inside looked like the outside. And becoming fascinated with languages. And no, I wasn’t the smart kid. I was curious. It didn’t matter to me if I passed or failed, I just wanted to learn something new.

I feel like, over the 3 decades that I have had so far, I’ve had a lot of “aha” moments. Or “oh ok, so this is life” moments. But I don’t think any of them hit as hard as my first love. Dramatic, I know. But for me, that was a really big deal. I had friends that came and went. Family pets died. Family that left. Failure was familiar.

But, he wasn’t. I didn’t really let anyone close. I didn’t date until after high school and took relationships with a grain of sugar. It was supposed to be something sweet. And up until that point, that’s what I thought of life.

Sweet and ever changing. Loving and real. Life had its ups and downs, but it was never mean about anything. Not even my school bully got me as bad as this. But it was my own fault.

I always thought of relationships as a fairytale. Something that you’d get to keep forever. You didn’t hate each other and you were supposed to be there for each other. It was like a dream. But I’m glad I woke up.

We seemed meant for each other. Both calm, loved the outdoors from an inside perspective, and gamed out. I thought he was my world. Even after he started telling me what to wear…

My friends drove him mad so he didn’t want them around me anymore. My family was a bad influence, his was safer. My job didn’t meet his needs, so I changed. And my clothes, he loved them after he changed them out for his preference. Now mind you, this wasn’t all his fault, not at all! This was just what opened my eyes. After 5, almost 6 years together, we had started looking for homes. And started talking about marriage. I was beyond excited. And apperantly blind.

I never heard much from him, but it didn’t bother me. Until he came home.

He said he’d met someone else. That he never wanted to see me again. But he still rubbed it in my face. He didn’t leave immediately. And I didn’t want him to.

After he had told me he was marrying someone he’d met years ago and had been dating, he said their house wasn’t ready yet. And he needed a place to stay. I wouldn’t kick him out. Although, trust you me, half of me wanted to. We didn’t say much in the mean time and he slept on the couch up until the day he left. But I would make it a day to remember. Vengeful? Yes. Pitiful….. yeah. That wasn’t my brightest moment. But it was needed.

The day he was supposed to leave, I wanted to smash the guitar he owned. With the pick and PlayStation games I had bought him. I wanted to bleach all of his clothes and shred everything he owned. It I couldn’t bring myself to do it. His family showed up to a bit of a shock though. I had placed everything he owned on the ant infested patio. Not bagged, not wrapped, not protected. Not much, I know. It wasn’t even raining that day so nothing was damaged.

I wanted to scream that I hated him. I wanted to let him know how low he was. Cheating on me and leading me on and using me for years!

While I sat blindly. While I thought that it could never happen. While I blinded myself. Geeze I wasn’t very smart back then. I could say anything to him. I just cried as he got the things I couldn’t set gently out on the patio. He wouldn’t say a word either. Wouldn't even look at me. I’m guessing he thought I’d do worse.

I didn’t want to do any worse than that. Honestly, I didn’t want to hurt him, even after what he did to me. And to this day I still don’t understand why.

I know this is my life changing moment. This is what opened my eyes and let me the side of life I was ignoring. After he had packed his things, after his family had made sure nothing of his was left behind, he walked out the door. Crying.

It took me years to even bring up his name. His family was always kind to me. I even stayed in that house until I had enough strength to leave on my own. But it took me longer to remember. He was crying when he left that day.

He showed me more that just hate. He showed what it was to hurt. And showed me I had the strength to deal with it. I had the strength to move on and do better for myself. My fairytale dream, the rose coloured glasses I put in front of my eyes, were showing me what I wanted to see. They weren’t showing me reality though. They weren’t showing me that I had hurt him. Just by being blinded.

This is probably just presumptions. But I really do believe a part of him wanted me to find out. So leaving wouldn’t be so hard. He wasn’t just my first relationship, I was his first relationship, too.

To this day I don’t hate him, I don’t think I ever could. But I definitely dodged a bullet when he left. He changed my perspective on life. And for that, I’m grateful. He still needs to fall in a mud puddle though…