I’m training a new team member twice my age. She tells me of heart ache and troubles everyone seem to suffer through lately. She’s part of the homeless that swear and beg for hours to pay for the extended stay hotels in Gwinnett County.
In telling me about her situation; a corporate worker lost her job and home in a financial bind. Her eldest daughter is miles away in another state, desperate and heart broken. The daughter left to be with a man in age only, to live and to grow together. But as all relationships, really, they end. Her daughter is now depressed, in distress attempting suicide almost. I told the lady that’s my situation too.
I didn’t travel miles to be with her, just decided to live with her in the current city. I was warned and cautioned but it was love I told myself. I told her since you know me since I relayed all that I am on a dating site. The only means I may find someone. I took to a dating site for a serious relationship. Not a fairy tale forever, but something that will grow and last as we mature and understand the other. Apparently, despite her education being equal to my own, failed at reading and listening comprehension. A roller coaster of emotions about situations that I had told her that I been through before, yet nothing came of it. Reassured after a powwow and again…that everything is fine and that she wished to marry me. I continued with high hopes. It’s like what music tells me that relationships are a struggle, but so long as we struggle together for positive it’ll be well worth the time. No, my time, our time wasted.
Dumped after my college graduation, dumped after resigning an agreement to live together in financial bondage. I lost it. I lost my temper, emotions overwhelmed me. As I told her that will happen-depressing episode. Her response was not that of love, it was the best way to contact the police officers. Yelling and tearing down my belongings so I could move out easier, though I did so in a fit of rage and I understand her confusion then, is grounds for my arrest and death. Again, a week after my graduation.
I lost it. I lost myself in emotions. A heart and stress that shows on my face. My color has changed, become darkened. How long has it been since then? Nine months has passed and she is in her eighth month ‘anniversary’ with another woman. I’m tormented and devastated, constantly reminded of her. Always reminded of bullshit as I try again to keep my mind off of it. She wasted my time. Filled me up with hopes, said we could do it again some point. No I wasn’t listening to that part. I listened when she rolled her eyes as I tried to explain, calmly that I could not afford to live with her and her friend, now that there wasn’t a love bondage to ensure we would take care of each other.
Depression has overcome me. I’m no longer living in anxiety of her presence since she has moved to live with her girlfriend, yet still reminded of a few family members I have met. Trying my best to avoid their presence and scene. Heart break turned into pessimism, almost given up. Trying my best to have goals in mind to keep me going. Homelessness is temporary, work menial task jobs for now to save for your MA degree and home. Continue to find a purpose, by weight training and writing. Even still there in my gym or here on this site I cannot avoid the overwhelming emotion of a heart break. Again I see it in my face, see it as I see my body as plump though I’m skinny. Stopping tears during random moments of songs reminiscing what I thought I had.
As what most people, as it seems, think that they have is something forever. Combining finances and planning for the future as if it is marriage already. Why? We are taught to never be alone, yet I have witnessed a marriage where being alone is more preferreable than to fall into expectations. Expecting tradition, order in a world full of possibilities and options. Though if that had happened I would not have been born… I sit and think in the pointless mater of forming relationships. You’re infatuated, this person is your everything. Your milk to your chocolate, in my case I like it. It feels good but people cannot stomach bad moments. It just wasn’t going to work, as I was told. What the hell does that mean? Oh it means that love doesn’t exist. Every situation is treated like a stepping stone to something out there ‘better’ without conflict. I typed a post about this, while in a sad state, people want someone to confirm their bias. As she told me, her girlfriend-that’s ignorant of all details previous of her-told her that her causes and concerns were correct.
What was there to argue about? Abuse. I was used and abused and did not know how to cope and to relate this to my now ex. She interpreted this as untrustworthiness, really cheating. Young as I am forming relationships I never had before. I could not shake the feeling that I had been forced into something previous of my ex. I’ll handle it alone as I tell myself, address the one responsible alone. I suppose this is the incorrect way to handle such a situation as it means one is cheating. Unable to comfort someone in need is her flaw. I suppose she’s right, it just was not going to work.
Here I am 9 months later sniffling, going over my mind a hundred times more before I rest my eyes in my car. My temporary home. I think again in obsession as I wash dishes at one job; travel. My first job people are looking for a joke and a smile per usual from me. I tell them I’m going through some life troubles but I’m alright. It’s time to work, customers do not want to hear your story in addition so remained focused.
I did contact her for an apology. Worst decision to make as she affirms she had done nothing wrong per usual. As I knew she would say stubbornly that she was in a dark place, depressed. Well better now it seems with someone new. She tells me this isn’t about ‘race’, since she’s not racist. I never mentioned color difference to her.
Whatever, whatever a broken record of her words and her apathy and rude, immature behavior towards me plays over again. My reaction reminded to me again. Again, and again. I know why someone may commit suicide.
I know what the love songs are talking about. It hurts. Wait, every reaction similar in my experience hurts. I understand the hurt as I listen to others or about others hurting. The more aged adults singing about how young a heart may become and it’ll pass. However they too at the age 45 and over dealing with heart breaks and longings, making it seem as if there is an age restriction to this feeling. It’s not immature, it hurts.
And I listen to others and see why they are hurting. They, like myself, take matters of the heart seriously. Cannot stomach another commitment witnessing the same or similar patterns of behavior. With the common expectation of bitterness. It’s the person, the individual they say. Well I’m referring to her and other people in my past, hence why I made a dating profile address this exact point. In my ignorant assumption thinking she had read the terms and conditions to being with me.
I digress, not actually, but for now I’m tired. It shows physically as my feet swell. In need of two jobs to afford a place and my education in addition. Sore and exhausted thinking work and working will keep me busy from the obsssesive troubles on my mind. I’m open an honesty about my struggles so I’m not stifling through tears trying to come up with a lie about my situation. Honestly I’m stressed and in need of sleep.
As a child I slept away my loneliness-inability to connect with others, self hatred of my actual plump body, etc. So much sleeping to do as an activity, I became pale and soft. My mom told me she thought she was doing us a favor by leaving us alone in our bedrooms. No I tell her I anticipated bed after school so I may continue the story dream and to cry myself to sleep. 10, 12, 23 years old my more bullish family members tell me that I just cannot cope with life.
A funny world that we live in. It’s not funny. The lady’s daughter is being institutionalize, miles away from home, because of someone else. Someone else being inconsiderate means the person damaged is need of medication. If we are a danger to ourselves then we need to be institutionalized. I knew my ex was depressed and I tried my best to relate to her by sharing my own experience. Perhaps if I remained patient and supportive she would see that I love her dearly. No, this acknowledgement required love on her part as well. As I told her I’m sure she feels more appreciated now with someone new. It killed me inside when she said yes. It’s not you, it’s just me. It’s just me. My heart ripping to shreds. How do I cope?
I try my best to keep my goals in mind. Again, homelessness is temporary, fast food worker as a college graduate is only temporary until I find one less judgemetal and rude employer to give me a chance…and so on. I look forward to purchasing books. I look forward to share my story dream, from my childhood, titled as ‘Rough Draft’. I find something else to do to snap out for only a minute or so until my mind falls back to its broken record.
I gave advice to my ex-essentially stating, please love the woman you’re with now. Nothing worse than time wasted and memories wasted and corrupted. Why? For the simple fact of never being alone.
I’m sighing, not wanting to culture my space here too, yet feel more relieved as I share.