Before you begin reading, you should know that this is really really long. However it is also super personal so if you are wanting to know more about me or maybe just nosey/curious than you should definitely stick it out and read all of it. Thank you in advance.
In case you didn’t know, I started college in August. If you had told a year ago what I know now and would experience everything that I have I would not have believed you.
In August I entered college with a boyfriend, despite nearly everyone advising otherwise. I had no job, not that I really needed one but for the purpose of this it’s relevant. I came to school not having that many friends, only about five-ish people from my high school came to the same school as me.
For the first time since I moved to North Carolina in Kindergarten I had to make new friends. I’ve never had trouble talking to new people but this was the first time in a long time that if for some reason it did not work out there was not anyone to fall back on. One of my best friends was four hours away at school and the other was in college back home.
Luckily, I hit the jackpot with my roommate and she is now one of my best friends and I can’t imagine how I would do college without her.
Even before I got to college I have always hated change. I hated how one day you’re living your life as you’ve known it and then the next suddenly everything is completely different. Every time a major change had taken place in my life my depression would rear it’s ugly head.
Side note: a few months before I got to college I decided to get off of my anti-depression medication and it was the best decision… at the time.
However, when I left for college, probably one of the biggest changes in a person’s life, my depression didn’t come back. I was still as happy as could be. Fast forward 6 weeks later.
It is now late September, September 29th to be exact. I was in my room, I had just gotten back from class when I received a text from my at the time boyfriend if we could meet. Me being annoyed because I had literally just gotten back and maybe even a little lazy, said no. But then I received the infamous “we need to talk” text and so I went.
As I am typing this I realize that I hadn’t told anyone at all this story except for one person and now six months later I’m essentially telling the world.
It was September in North Carolina so it was still hot which just added to my annoyance. As I walked to the spot where we had agreed to meet my heart beat fast and I struggled to catch my breath, not because I was out of shape which is usually the reason I am tired walking to campus but because my anxiety was so high in anticipation of what I knew was about to happen.
I won’t share the details of the conversation but the jist of it was, well from my view…
“I love you, but I also want to see other people and maybe one day we will get back together and I hope we do because I want to marry you but I just don’t want to be tied down right now. I hope we can still be friends.”
I don’t think I had ever been more angry and sad in my entire life.
I was angry because for the past six weeks I had foolishly believed that our relationship was fine. For the past six weeks I believed that college had made our relationship better. I had believed that everything had finally fallen into place and that my relationship was essentially on cruise control until the day he decided to propose.
In hindsight I realize how crazy this sounds. I realize that most 18 year olds don’t think that far ahead. However, I am not like most people and I plan for everything and the further advance the better. As morbid as this may be I even have an ideal plan of how I would like for my funeral to go.
But anyways… I’ve always looked forward to getting married and having kids. I have my wedding planned and the house and the amount of kids and every little detail. I understand that marriage or kids never go as planned, nothing ever does but still. However, I was still 18 and I didn’t want any of this now any more than he did or most people my age.
Once I was older I realized that there wasn’t really any point in dating someone if I couldn’t see myself marrying them one day. I think this is where I let my mind run free. I get so caught up in this mindset that I plan for “one day” and “some day.” This is probably why getting dumped sucked so much more than it probably should have.
I was angry because I was totally blindsided. I felt like an idiot. I began to blame myself: How did I not see it coming? What did I do wrong? Why wasn’t I enough? Was there something that I could have done differently that would have changed this? Was I not attractive anymore?
I was embarrassed.
As I walked away from him, the tears flowed. I was pissed at myself for not grabbing my ray-bans. I felt exposed, walking up college hill with my eyes red and puffy while I attempted to keep my crap together. To distract myself I called my best friend, I can’t remember what she was doing but more than likely it was napping. I quickly and briefly told her what happened but said that I needed a distraction until I got back to my room so I wasn’t some weird girl crying through campus.
I finally got back to my room and I had the choice of telling my roommates and I didn’t. I didn’t have another class until late so I told them that I was going to nap and got into my bed, face the wall and quietly cried.
They finally left for their class and I was relieved. I finally had a chance to cry like a baby. I realize how melodramatic this entire story sounds but at the time it didn’t feel this way.
I didn’t tell my family until a week later because I was still in denial, hoping that things would change… they didn’t. This was probably the hardest part, trying to explain to my family why I got dumped after two years without even really understand why myself.
The depression had finally reared its ugly head again. But I was so desperate to fight it that I did any and everything to avoid feeling the pain. Which of course eventually ended up biting me in the tail.
We remain friends but honestly it still really sucks. Things are a lot better now than they were six months ago. Time does heal all wounds and this one is beginning to scab.
I’m not really sure what my purpose was in sharing all of this. I just felt this strong urge like I needed to, so I did.
If you actually ended up reading all 1200 words, thank you. If not, well you aren’t reading this and I totally don’t blame you.
Thank you for reading and sorry this was so long.