Unfortunately, every time he would break up with me or when I tried to leave him, he always came back. One moment he would call and say he didn’t love me anymore and a week later he would be begging for my forgiveness because he “made a mistake.” He would call me crying, buy me jewelry, write love letters, and even beg at my feet for me to take him back. Each time, he swore he would change, and I believed him. A part of me felt that he would wake up one day and be the person he used to be. Sadly, every time he promised to change, he’d be nice for a week or a month– kind, funny, sweet- but then he was back to his same hurtful self. When I asked him to go to counseling, he refused. I also begged him to stop drinking thinking that would help, but he didn’t.
I felt ashamed that I couldn’t leave. My mother raised me to be an independent woman. A woman that would never let someone treat her poorly. Yet I still couldn’t leave. I felt that I had let everyone down, including myself. After months of being called names and yelled at or ignored, told I would never find anyone else, the abuse did turn physical when my boyfriend started to push and slap.
I still didn’t tell anyone.
I stayed with him, because once again, he cried and said that would never happen again. The month after was actually not bad. He didn’t call me any names and never laid a hand on me. He was nice when he drank and told me he loved me every day. But when I invited him to reconcile with my parents, something in him changed. The week he was supposed to come, he called me to tell me that he had been seeing a counselor since the incident and that he wanted to do his own thing. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be with me anymore. I was absolutely taken off guard and devastated, but I didn’t want to force someone to be with me. I told him to do what he wanted, that I deserved better, and then hung up the phone. I was just mentally and emotionally exhausted.
The months after the final break up (it was June when it happened) were hard and easy at the same time. It may not make sense, but there were times that I was completely drained from the relationship that I was happy to finally be able to start new. Other times, I felt lonely and worthless. After everything I put up with, I was still thrown away. Other times, I was just angry. Angry at him for treating me bad, but mostly angry at myself to not listening to people that loved me and not leaving sooner.
Luckily for me, I have family and friends that kept me busy and happy. I even donated my hair to Locks of Love and it made me feel important and special again. When school started it was hard as I thought about the good times we had, but I tried my best to remember the bad times, not because I wanted to get sad, but because I needed a reminder to stay positive. As time went on, it got easier. I didn’t cry anymore. In October, I began talking to one of my best guy friends on a daily basis. He was one of the close friends that were there for me throughout this ordeal, every step of the way. And I began to see him in a new light. He was funny, nice, and thoughtful. If I was having a bad day, he’d ask me what’s wrong. He truly cared about my feelings and I wasn’t used to that.
