As I've mentioned before, Henry* and I actually fought quite a bit. There was one fight in particular that my cell phone accidentally dialed him while my mom and I were talking about him, and she was revealing her usual disgust for our relationship. It's not that she didn't necessarily like him, she just thought he was emotionally abusive to me and that I deserved better.
Henry began tagging along with me to my church on Wednesday nights at my request. Henry had already graduated, and he came to my town one Wednesday night in June. He came down a little earlier than necessary so we could just hang out and go get some dinner before we went to church. This particular week, Lizzie* and Tony* also decided to join us. We all hung out at Lizzie's place for a little bit before heading downtown to a local Italian restaurant. While we were eating, Tony and Henry started making jokes at my expense, and something just set me over the edge. I'm not sure what exactly they said that pissed me off, but Henry got into it BIG TIME at the restaurant. We weren't quite yelling, but I do remember leaving the restaurant before I finished my dinner.
While he and I were in the car together, the fight really escalated. Before I knew it, I was yelling and crying at the same time. I told him that we didn't need to go to church anymore because there was no way I was going to calm down in time (in about 20 minutes). Instead, he and I went back to my house and sat in his car in the driveway and continued to fight. He and I yelled and argued and aired out everything we hated about each other, and then finally around 9 p.m., we decided to just end things. At the end of it all, we were both crying. He begged me to re-think it, to stay with him. Truth is, I knew this was a long time coming. He was heading off to college in the fall, and we were both so emotionally abusive to each other that I knew I would never be able to fully trust him while he was away.
I tried walking into my house and he ran out of his car after me to try to get me to change my mind. It caused us to start talking again, causing me to get back in his car to talk more. I think I ended up staying out there until around midnight, and finally, I just couldn't cry anymore. My last words were "I'm getting out of this car, going to bed, and you're not following me. You're going to drive home, and that will be the end of it."
It wasn't quite the end of it, because we definitely did try to get back together the next day, but it only lasted a couple weeks. I told him to stop calling me (way before text messaging was the way to communicate).
Ten months. We were together for ten months, and then I selfishly broke it off.
My name is Blake*, and he was the first person I ever said "I love you" to. Unfortunately, I found out a couple years later that I said it, but those feelings weren't as genuine as the guy I now call my high school sweetheart.
*all names have been changed to protect the innocent and not-so-innocent
Update on the boys in this entry:
Henry and I continued to talk to each other off and on. In fact, he and I are still pseudo-friends, and we hang out almost every time he comes to my town. It's actually not awkward at all. Except for when a girl that likes him is a bitch to me because she thinks we're getting back together. HELL NO.
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