This story is a tragedy. I’ve told it a million times. In fact, it’s most of my stories, but I’ve left out much of it. I’ll tell you more and more each time, I swear. Here’s the most I can give you today:

He was my first love. It all began when I was 18 and he was 17. We were almost to the end of our senior year of high school. March 24th was our first date. I had never been romanced before. I’d had crushes, been on dates, been kissed, been felt up in someone’s basement by a guy I hated. But, I’d never felt something like I had that night. I was wearing ripped jeans, a black tank top, a flannel shirt, my black converse, and my dad’s old jacket. I still have the last two items. The shoelaces are frayed and the jacket’s pockets are ripped, though. We had pizza and ice cream, and talked about our future plans - college, jobs, moving away from home.

I had already committed to school, but he was waiting on a letter from his top choice. He wanted to be a theater major. I only went to one school play - the children’s play he was in - because I hate plays (for the most part). He’d actually told me not to go to it, but I did anyway, and I think I still have the ticket stub and the playbill with a kiss mark over his name. I wore pink lipstick that day.

He got his degree in computer science but works in email marketing (I despise advertising of all kinds, but not because of him). But, before all that he moved back to Italy, and we were long distance for a year. It was awful, minus when he visited me at Christmas. I drove to the airport to see him. It was raining and I listened to “Friday I’m in Love” by The Cure on the way home. I got distracted and took the wrong exit. I ended up on the toll road.

Our second date was at the mall. I wore yoga pants and I may have been hungover again. I know I was tired. I don’t drink anymore which makes this story funnier to me. When we were walking, I started singing along to the music they played over the intercom and he said to me, “you know every song”, which isn’t true, but I know a lot of the hits from the past 50 years. We sat on a couch in the Macy’s furniture section for hours. Long enough for someone who worked there to come up to us and comment on it. He said he’d already sold the couch and didn’t mind that we’d been there for so long, he just thought it was interesting. He said, “When you two get married, come back here, so I can sell you some furniture”, and we used to reference that all the time. We didn’t get married, not even engaged.

On our third date, we went on a walk at a park near my neighborhood. We ended up back at my house (not in that way, that comes later). He met my mom for the first time, and we went upstairs to “watch TV” aka makeout. We made our relationship official that day. I was wearing my favorite overalls that I still get compliments on to this day. I bought them specifically to wear on that date.

Our fourth date was prom. My dress was $450, and it was the most beautiful I had ever felt. I was not popular in high school, but he was relatively popular. I ended up getting compliments from people who had never spoken to me. We went back to my friend’s house for the afterparty. He drove my car there. I got a little bit drunk on shots of Ciroc and we spent the whole party alone in my friend’s bedroom (not like that, that comes later).

That happened for the first time in late June, but I won’t tell the story. It was unremarkable to be honest. We had our first fight around that time. We were driving home from another park. I think I was driving because that was something that I used to do. I stopped the argument by cranking up the music. We were listening to “Jack and Diane” by John Mellencamp, and I was singing along to it. He used to like my singing and my taste in music back then. I took him back to my house and my mom convinced him to stay for dinner. We were fighting about something stupid and she was the one who ended it, albeit unknowingly.

The worst fight we ever had was when I was 21 or 22. Flash forward from senior year of high school to senior year of college. He was an anti-vaxxer and I made fun of him for it. I can’t remember what I said, but it wasn’t that offensive. He started screaming at me. He screamed at me until I sobbed on the floor of my bedroom. I stopped trusting him that night. I remember my friend was in the other room, and he texted me asking if I was okay, and I said “yes”. The next day, when my boyfriend had gone home, my friend asked me about the fight again and I told him that I started it, which is kind of true, but he said, and I’ll never forget it, “I can’t imagine what [his girlfriend’s name] would have to do for me to yell at her like that”. They live together now and are a very happy couple, I’m still friends with them both.

The reason for the breakup was not all the fighting. In the end, he cheated on me. He admitted to it in August. I was 23 and he was 22. He told me it had happened while he was away in Italy while we were 18/19 and that he had just kissed a few girls, so I forgave him. I told him not to do it again and he promised he wouldn’t. I visited him in mid-September and was there until October 30th. He called me on the 31st to tell me he’d cheated on me twice while I was there.

I told him he was a coward for not telling me before. The thing that made me the most angry was that he chose to confess over the phone. I didn’t even get closure because he didn’t want to see me cry in person, he couldn’t do it when we were together because he couldn’t bear to see my face. He didn’t cry when he told me. That made me angry too.

He started dating someone else, but we called each other and fell asleep on the phone together many nights for the next few months. He started going to see a therapist and he got better to some extent, he started letting me talk and had more empathy towards me. He apologized and told me he’d repented (he’s a devout Catholic). I told him that meant he was forgiven by God, but not by me. (I love the song “God Will” by Lyle Lovett, and I think it’s fitting).

Regardless, we saw each other in person in January, and we went on a weekend getaway to Savannah to try to patch things up. It ended in him yelling at me in the airport when I had a panic attack. We haven’t seen each other in person since then. I wish I could say I had a better last memory with him, but I don’t.

We continued to try to patch things up for months, multiple times. We broke it off once and I started dating this girl that I really liked (she broke my heart too, but she was nicer about it). The ex-boyfriend and I almost got back together in June, but we fought over the phone about sexual assault statistics. He said men get falsely accused all the time and I disagreed. I asked him if he really believed me when I told him what had happened when I was 16 and he promised he’d never hurt me like that. He said yes, and I asked him if he’d believe that I’ve had so many friends who have similar stories and he said he wouldn’t necessarily believe them. I hung up and told him I couldn’t do it anymore.

I think back to all the times I took Klonopin before having sex, so “it’d be easier for me to get through it”, and I think it makes that argument make more sense.

Last Thanksgiving, 5 months post-breakup, we went around the table and talked about what we were most thankful for, and I said that I was most thankful that he wasn’t in my life anymore. The whole table - my whole family - clapped for me.

You are

a greedy bastard

Today, your grasping hands

pillaged

a most beautiful treasure

of a human

I hate that you mock

this impending season

of renewal and life

with your unwanted presence

I will rejoice the day

that smug look

is ripped

from your ancient face

One day

I will dance

at the news

of YOUR demise

You may have your way

(for now)

with our frail, earthly shells

but in the very end

we win

Rest in peace, C.T.

I will see your radiant smile again, sweet friend. I love you.

https://youtu.be/M4Zg3t5Kt5Y?si=ykFxBtObB115kM4W

“When death dies, all things live.”

You are singularly beautiful.

Your words bring light, magic and hope into my life.

You are a flame of warmth in a harsh and darkening world.

Love is too overused a word to tell you my regard for you simply being.

I thank God daily for your existence.

Behind the mirror is a girl I don't recognize.

She looks like me,

but there's just something off about her eyes.

She smiles in all the photos,

that's when she looks the most like me,

but that beautiful smile goes away when all the doors close.

When the moon is out,

and she takes off her mask,

she's the type of girl that no one wants to be around.

She hates herself,

and all the goofy things she does,

but in the moment, she wouldn't trade the smiles and laughs for anything else.

Because she loves herself during the daytime,

when she believes that other people love her too,

but she gets lonely in her bedroom, crying late into the night.

Sometimes she wishes she could disappear,

be someone else-

She wants to be anyone besides the girl behind the mirror.

It was the way the life faded from your eyes. They were reddened and inflamed, glistening like rubies that had fallen into the sea -- they were fixed on me until they drifted off into space, aimless and tired, and then there was the stillness, the silence. The tree outside your window cast a shadow over your body as though it were an omen for what was to come; you were a farm girl raised from the earthly soil and would return there without a fight. How peaceful you looked, how serene, content as though life were a mere process of sowing your impression upon our psyches and that, with your absence, we could all finally reap the benefits. On the day of your burial it began to rain. The dry, blind earth could not differentiate the rainwater from our tears.

The memories came flooding back and everything around me dissipated -- if these images were merely the residue of your physical existence then so be it, they were pure and they were beautiful. You spread yourself out like a fog and I felt you permeate through everything, absolutely everything, the changing leaves and birds soaring through the sky and, most of all, our daughter. Her eyes are crystalline and piercing just like yours.

We never fully understood each other, but I loved you all the same. Your impression left an impact on me and, in that sense, these mere after images aren't so different from when you were still here, breathing and sitting right next to me.

I look back and know there are things I should've done differently. I should've told you that I loved you more. I should've told you that I appreciated it when you tended the garden. I should've told you that your favorite sun tanned dress was gorgeous instead of tacky. I should've thanked you for looking after our daughter when I was tired from work. I should've done a lot of things. But all that is over now, and they are not the worries of those who are eternally slumbering -- please close your eyes and rest.

I can feel all the memories from my past

starting to rear their ugly heads again.

I thought it was over,

that the last time was the end.

I wanted to never break down again

on a date night, in your car,

bawling about how I was drowning,

that I relapsed and had to restart.

I thought it was all gone,

the pain of the past wiped clean.

Turns out, time doesn't care how bad it hurt-

just leaves you trying to find out what it all means.

You must have been busy

And you know, I was too

But I’m never too busy

When it comes to you

I waited and waited

For some kind of reply

But none ever came

And I don’t know why

You must have been busy

You must have been busy

And you know, I was too

But I’m never too busy

When it comes to you

I waited and waited

For some kind of reply

But none ever came

And I don’t know why

You must have been busy

“Move, get out of the way, we’ll take over CPR now” The paramedic commanded as I was pulled away by a police officer. He brought me over near one of the trash cans in the rec center where I worked. He was asking me questions though I couldn’t hear what he said, so instinctively I took off my gloves the way we had practiced in the lifeguarding course. I looked over to my two bosses and I watched Luke punch Jason and storm away, that seemed odd but I can barely even remember it long enough to focus on it. Jason walked over to me and guided me to his office, I felt like a sheep being herded through the crowds of people that gathered as the paramedics continued CPR.

His office was loud, inside were three more police officers, the fire chief, and a paramedic. I did not notice what they were discussing as I sat down in the corner. No one was speaking to me, I was just there, reflecting on what had happened.

I remember being tugged from the lifeguard shack by a lady who works at the front desk. She had told me someone was unconscious and rushed me to the chair where the man lay. It was Jesse, a regular. His usually smiling face was now lifeless. A man in an obnoxiously striped shirt was yanking him from the chair and letting him fall on the floor, looking back it’s funny what your mind remembers during trauma. I sprinted back to grab the OSB which contained many life saving tools when I remembered what OSB stood for. It was our ‘Oh shit bag’ and I thought to myself Oh shit. I returned, slid on my gloves and started CPR. For 15 minutes I continued doing rounds of 30 compressions and 2 breaths. I believe someone had said the ambulance was stuck behind a train and that’s why I had been doing this for so long. I remember screaming at the air for someone to call 911 again, too much crucial time has passed.

Jason’s office went quiet, they were all staring at me as if I was crazy. Not one of them had a single ounce of empathy on their faces. It was then I realized I was projecting my thoughts for them all to hear. I could not bear the way they were looking at me so I focused on the calendar hanging on the bulletin board and went back to my thoughts. I felt more alone than ever. I wondered what was happening to Jesse right now. I did not know if I could or should get up, so I sat there and waited for someone to open the door. Eventually a woman walked in and I gazed outside to see the paramedics were still there. They seemed to be getting some sort of suction device ready. Meanwhile another device that looked like two plastic boards connected with thick bungee cords was actively compressing his chest in rounds of 3. The door closed, and once again I went back to my thoughts, surrounded by people but feeling very deserted.

These halls are all so empty

Though other kids surround me

I see them, all together,

Yet my heart is still sighing.

My friends are sort of friends,

But I don't have the time

To tell them that I care

Or that I'm always there.

Remembering my God

Brings me shame and not grace

I know this is a lie

But I can't fight this fight

Am I called to walk

This pain alone?

Oh, should I give up hope,

Where can I go?

I'm all alone

Drowning in my past and

Wondering if friends still last

My heart is cold

But no one cares at all

So who's here to rescue

The mess of me?

Thanks for being kind to me,

Sharing shards of empty empathy,

But stopping when things get too deep,

And my thoughts start turning messy.

Life's a joke, so you can't help

When things get real, you walk out

Maybe I expect way too much

But way too much won't be enough

Am I called to walk

This pain alone

Oh, should I give up hope,

Where can I go?

I'm all alone

Drowning in my past and

Wondering if friends still last

My heart is cold

But no one cares at all

So who's here to rescue

The mess of me?

Oh Lord, give me strength

To lean on you, to search for you

My Lord, give me strength

Live isn't worth living without you

I know you'll never leave me

Your spirit dwells within me

God help me wait upon you

Help me to know

Oh, I'm not alone

You were here before and

Your love will always last

My heart is yours

Lord Jesus, take it all

I know that your love

Still fights for me!

(These are song lyrics about my life at school. I felt different from everyone else there, and I constantly fell into despair when I saw everyone else being so close and friendly with one another. At the time it was just a reminder of what I didn't have.

The only thing I've had to hold on to was my faith, that Jesus still loved me even when everyone else seemed to ignore me. He is the reason I can still be joyful in times of struggle and loneliness, for I know that he will carry me through my every struggle.

Comment below if you can relate to this poem or if you have any comments or questions you would want to share! And any advice or ideas you can give me would be appreciated; I don't usually share my work. Peace!)