I started out just journaling, but I soon found myself writing poetry often. I noticed as the months went on that my writing seemed to take a shift from happy to gloomy, just as my life did. I met a boy in my sophomore year and we are together now. But that isn’t to say that it was all well and good. It started out like most relationships do, full of happiness, curiosity and adoration. We had a perfect summer together followed by a stressful junior year. Matt and I began to fight often about little things, but I soon found myself changing. I was losing my confidence and keeping my guard up constantly. I was paranoid that I wasn’t enough for him and that I would lose him if I wasn’t a certain way. And then our second summer came. It started off well, but then he left for the beach. And everything changed.
He started drinking and staying out late on the beach with his friends, and even meeting up with girls. The worst of it all was that he neglected to tell me until I saw his friend’s snapchat story. It enraged me. I texted him in a fury, calling him everything under the sun. I didn’t like the idea of him sneaking around behind my back, and for the first time I stopped trusting him. After fighting for hours in between being ignored, he called me. To dump me. He said “I’m sorry. There are girls here and for once I feel great. They want to have a good time and aren’t uptight. They are spontaneous and fun. I’m sorry Hal but it’s over.” And then he hung up. Of course I was panicked and upset and confused, only to find out the next morning, after being ignored all night, that he hooked up with a girl on the beach. 15 minutes after he hung up the phone. I felt so betrayed. That’s the moment that everything changed for me. I began to throw myself at him, doing everything that I could to try to make him remember all of the fun times that we had. I was desperate. I never felt more unloved, worthless, ugly and used more by someone in my entire life, but I couldn’t let go. I remember one night just sitting in a bath tub full of steaming hot water and feeling nothing, and having a moment of weakness with a razor blade lingering in the shower. Eventually we got back together after he apologized. But things just haven’t been the same.
I lost myself last summer. I started drinking to the point where I would pass out, and even drank half a handle by myself in attempt to numb the pain but also put on a good show to keep him interested. I lost myself in desperation. That’s when my writing started becoming dark. I wrote numerous poems expressing my sorrow and anger. It took months for us to gain our relationship back along with the trust. Things were restored back to normal, or they just appeared to be. But being honest, I think I was just putting on a mask so that I wouldn’t be lonely. Instead I saved the pain for my writing, never letting him see my true feelings. Last summer writing became my rock. It was the only thing that was there for me through everything. The only thing that came without judgment. Writing was my safe place.