When I was a little girl, I would day dream about what my first relationship would be like. What it would feel like the first time I was kissed, the first time I fell in love, the first time I had sex with someone I deeply cared about. I would spend hours day dreaming, I’d play games with my cousins and have these pretend boyfriends and pretend families and make believe this perfect little world in which I was surrounded in this…this love.
I had very little to base it off of, beyond that of my grandmother and my grandfather, who were both older then life and filled with such wisdom, and on top of that, there were the stereotypical, preconceived notion that society seemed to paint for me. I tried not to let it completely run my make believe but I’m sure inklings of it did. I never wanted a relationship where I had to compete for someone’s attention, compete to keep someone’s attention, play games or hide, cheat or lie…but somehow my first two relationships turned out to be exactly that.
I’m not proud of myself. I’m not proud of who I became, romantically at least. Jury is still out about the rest of me. I was the kid, the little girl, for the most part that is, that was always giving out advice. I prided myself on the knowledge that I had somehow been graced with about what it meant to be in a good, working relationship. I would sit back at watch, assess, gather information from many sources, popular media, history, both personal and non personal, copy, cut and paste together this definition of what it meant to be in a loving relationship.
I gave advice to countless people, guys and girls who needed an ear and some words on what they should do concerning a loved one, crush, romantic feelings in general. Part of me believed…maybe still believes that Aphrodite herself graced me with some magical “know-it-all” power concerning cupid and his pesky arrows. But If I had all this knowledge…how did I end up here.
I guess I can count my lucky stars that I’ve never been in a physically abusive relationship, I wont allow myself to ever be in one. Least I hope my future self can agree me there. But…I have somehow become tangled in an emotionally abusive one. Two toxic relationships, yet in very different ways.
With Pele, I felt that I had suddenly conquered the world because I had her at my side and she was mine. But the more and more I think about it, remember how I felt about her, it just doesn’t add up to love. I didn’t really love her love her in that way, I loved her as a friend though out all of it and I think that’s why losing her as a friend honestly hurt more and took more out of me because for a long time all I had was friends. I wish her well in life. It took me a long time before I could honestly say that, but I really do. I may not agree with her decisions, her choices, but they are her’s to make. All I could do was sit back and help her, but not anymore. That’s not my job. She has to learn to help herself, if she ever needs to. Just like I need to help myself and sitting around waiting to be that best friend in the shadows is not something that will help me in the long run.
So this is to you Pele, if you ever see this. I’m moving on. In every way. Thank you for your time, you were great, I was great, we were what each other needed once upon a time. But the thing about time is that it’s constantly moving and changing and our time is no more. When you find yourself missing a best friend, go out and make one. The gods only know they graced you with the ability to attract people like magnets. Don’t let how we fell apart stop you from trusting the next person who’s ready to be your friend. Live life, Love life, it’s too short to be lonely and there are far to many people in the world for you not to find a friend.
I guess that is a lesson I need to learn myself. I used to look forward to college, to life as an adult. I used to believe that if there are close to 6 billion people on this planet, that chances are I am going to meet nearly a 100 people a day. Simply through random interactions, though passing moments. And during those moments I would meet the people who were really meant to be and stay in my life, yet here I am in my second year of college, nearly curled in a ball and crying my eyes out because of this vacant hole in my….stomach? Heart? Brain? Body…that is lonely. I am so fucking lonely, but it’s entirely of my own making.
I tried to fill that hole with Will. I felt a kindred spirit with him, I felt like of all the people in the world he would know how it felt to feel like me. And maybe there was a time where he and I would have worked out, but it passed us. And yet I still hung on…hang on. I became the “other woman” because “you can’t help who you love.” No but you can respect when. I didn’t. It wasn’t that I believed he should leave her for me, hell had that happened I’d have run scared. When we finally got our chance, he got bored. Or scared himself. Maybe he had spent too long in his lonely-ness that he forgot what it felt like to not be, maybe I was just filling a hole with the nearest subject. He was my first love. The entire year of 2013 I spent in love with him, but these last three months…haven’t been love. They’ve been hell.
Teetering between friend and…benefits, between yours and not yours, between love and…not quite…the known and the unknown. Its all accumulated into the this crying mess that has become me and I’m sick of it.
So this one is to you Will…should you ever find my blog with your supposed computer skills. You had me, and you had her. You led me to believe in some bull shit that, I’m pretty sure even you believe, that you honestly and truly cared about me…but…but what? If that was the case, why not be with me? Military? Experience? What? What was it….? I think I finally figured it out, you let your ace in the hole show. Sadly, when you said “…It just sucks because I wanted that one….” you weren’t referring to me. I don’t know who you were referring to, because If you had really wanted her, then why did you do all that you did with me. If you really wanted me, then…well. You get the picture. And so do I.
I need to find myself again. I need to get back to where I was before all this, to being the person that looks life in the eye and says “Bitch, please…do your worst” and continues to defy every thing she throws my way.
My name is Dorothy Lynn Hammett Walker, I am not who you think I am. I am not some persons girlfriend, I am not everyone’s mother, I am not just getting up every day because I have to. But because I want to. I will continue my schooling, until I feel I have learned all that I need. I am not just and Art student, nor am I only a photographer. I am a creator. I think up worlds, make up stories, create things that are a 100% unique because I am one of a kind. There is no one on this planet that is like me in any way, and there never will be. The time is here, the Time is now. As wibbly wobbly as it can possibly be, and Its about time I jump on the Tardis with the Doctor and see where life takes me. I only have one, might as well make it worth it.