My Story

Most of you know most of my story, but I’ve never written it in whole. I have decided in the midst of the drama to vent. I am hoping that it will maybe help me let go of some of the pain I carry from the past and from my previous relationship. Of course some details are left out because it’s way too long… but here we go.

It all started with my first real boyfriend. We became very close during the summer of my 6th grade year and got very intimate. We very nearly had sex but I never really felt totally comfortable with him. We were both kids and never knew what we were doing, but we thought that we were in love all along. As it turned out, I basically grew bored of him. Mind you, I may sound cruel in this part of the story.

I met my father’s child at the beginning of 7th grade year and honestly, it was puppy love at first sight. He was so very dear to me, such a strong person, everything I had wanted as a child. Yes, I was and still am a child, but you get the jist of it. He tried chasing me and I wanted so badly to run from those scary feelings that I did things just to hurt him. I dated other guys and hugged or kissed them directly in front of him, I told him I hated him, I made his life hell. His family disliked me with all they had to dislike someone with. They had reason to, as well. I played with him and left him a message one night crying about how much I wanted to be with him and loved him. He gave me another chance to be with him, and I was glad for it for a short time.

I had so many problems that I didn’t want to involve him, so I started it again. So he started drinking. I didn’t care. I thought it was funny. One night something snapped inside me. I called him and he was drunk and couldn’t remember how many shots he had taken of hard liquor. He was throwing up blood and I begged and cried to my mom to take me to get him. His mom wasn’t home, so my mom took him to get a coffee and I talked to him and asked for a third chance.

This time, I turned myself around. He became my world, my life, my rock, my everything. I really did love him, but it was still an immature love. We were inseperable and the fairy-tale young love that everybody wanted. We started talking about sex that January, but actually had sex for the first time in June of 2007. My love for him grew to the extent a kid could love somebody with. We made the immature decision to not use protection anymore because we wanted a child. I was bored all the time and wanted someone to love. Honestly, I didn’t want this boy to leave me ever. I wanted him to stay with me forever and I thought a child would hold us together. He would always say whatever happens happens.

I changed schools to a separate one from him in the 8th grade because of a move to a different neighborhood. It was hard on us not seeing each other as often, but we dealt with it. Our parents attempted to separate us but we always found our way back to each other. Near the end of that year we started having problems. I didn’t know why, but I started getting jealous and controlling. Eventually we took a break and he dated another girl to get over me, but it was like a knife in my back the entire time. It hurt so badly and so eventually we split for good. 3 weeks later I found out I was 9 weeks pregnant. We were talking still, and I still had feelings for him so I tried. He didn’t talk to me for 2 weeks and his parents came over one night to talk about it with us. We took our time getting back together and two months later finally did. Our love was finally maturing. We were, in my opinion, happier than ever. I remember him rubbing lotion on my belly, his amazement when he felt the baby kick, how happy he was when we found out it was a boy… all of that joy made us different. We were different. We could handle anything. We fought. We cried. We worried. It was hard. But we loved each other, and nothing got in our way.

Caden Edward was born 7 lbs. 11 oz. on January 12, 2009 at 2:04 P.M. I remember looking up into his eyes and seeing the happiness. He was trying not to cry. Caden looked so much like me, and it seemed as though it bothered his mom. From his birth my boyfriend’s mom took so much control and made it such a stress on us that I was miserable. She wouldn’t let him stay with me that night like we had planned or even go to Caden’s doctor’s appointments or my house all that often. Everything was fine, though.

I developed PPD and had such a hard time transitioning to motherhood that it was a huge stress on our relationship. I cried to him multiple nights and he just didn’t understand, so I felt like he didn’t care. I felt like he didn’t have time for me and didn’t want to be there. He was always playing soccer, and his parents were pulling him in a different direction from his son. I wanted Caden to know exactly who he was and exactly who I was. I wanted us to be the family we had always wanted to be. We were for a short time. We started fighting constantly and to him it seemed as though I was being jealous and controlling again, but it wasn’t. I was concerned and he was always complaining that he didn’t see us enough, so I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t seeing us when he could see us.

So I broke up with him a week before I came back to school. I don’t know why I did. Right now I’m thinking it was the biggest mistake I could have done. I should have been strong enough to stay with him, I should have stood up for us. But I wanted him to for once. I wanted him to say that I belonged with him. He never did. He became a different person, instead. We tried being friends but I was in too much pain. I constantly held back holding his hand and kissing him. It was hell not to have those things we were used to. I never got used to them, either. He seemed fine, like he was happier. He said he was more content, and I wanted him to be happy, not content. I wasn’t happy, either. I tried over and over to work it out and to get us back together. He became this person who didn’t care, who didn’t let me in and wouldn’t talk to me. We had always talked to each other about everything, so it didn’t make sense to me. I still craved to tell him what had happened that day and who I talked to and what I did. I missed everything about being with him. He was perfect for me. I cried, cried, cried, and cried more. My best friend sat there with me through it all. She grew resentment towards him, as well. So did I. I wanted us back to the way we were.

In March, I was tickling him on the couch and we ended up kissing and that led to something further… sex. Unprotected sex. Again. How could we let that happen? I don’t know. You’d think we’d have learned but you just get caught up in a moment, I guess. I was so happy in that hour or so that I just couldn’t stop smiling. He felt happy, too. I was so… alive. Just feeling his hand on mine was enough to make me feel that spark again that I missed so much. I prayed that he missed it too night after night. But continuosly, he told me it was bette for us not to be together. I never understood why.

He started going to parties and drinking, cursing like he never used to, listening to music he didn’t listen to much before, he quit listening to his favorite music(which was most of our songs, anyway) and became this whole new person that I didn’t recognize. I missed him. I missed that boy I loved. Where did he go? He never acted like he wanted to see the baby, and I always tried to get him to be a part of his life. His mom wouldn’t let him over here, either. I never wanted Caden to go to their house alone because I was afraid that they wouldn’t treat him right, and I was worried they’d do something I didn’t want him to see.

So one night they came over to talk about him seeing him more. We were fine and his mom asked for a paternity test. He had already signed the AOP, so I was baffled. I felt rejected, shocked, dissapointed, and most of all, like he was denying his child. Naturally, it angered me because of that, not out of the fact that I had something to hide. He was my first and only. My parents flipped out and got angry and yelled at them. I tried calming everyone down and tried talking to him alone. It killed me to admit it to him, but I still tried to work it out. I tried telling him the opposite things, the truth, I tried yelling, crying, talking… everything. Nothing got my point across to him. Nothing got his point across to me. Nothing brought us back together. I realized eventually that only he could say it now. I had said it enough and he had to put in the 50 that I had. But he once again never did. He found freedom. He chose that, and it seemed like he’d rather have that than Caden and I. He hooked up with a girl… and that hurt me more than anything. The fact that he chose a meaningless night, a meaningless girl… over me. A nearly three year relationship where we’d gone through so much with each other. I wasn’t good enough for him. It felt horrible.

To this day, he hasn’t seen Caden since early March. We moved to Tennessee from Texas. We still talk, but we go in this cycle. It seems like we’ll work through something and we’ll go back to where we were to begin with. I still love him and miss him terribly. I love Caden with all my heart and love to be with him every day, but looking at him daily just hurts me to think of his father. We figured out that most of this was a misunderstanding and I want to put aside the struggles because I love him so much and want to be with him again. I want to make it like we always knew we would. But he won’t put the strength in like I’m trying to do.

I don’t know where we stand at this point. It’s unsettled. I just want to be happy, again. I want to stop dreaming about him every night and wake up crying. I want to feel comfortable again. When I’m with him I feel beautiful, wanted, and like I’m worth something to some one. I feel like I have some one there for me, no matter what. And now I’m so self-concious, I’m trying to find a way to feel better about myself, I’m trying to move on… and adjust to a new place. I told him the truth about how I feel and he didn’t say anything to it. I didn’t want him to say he didn’t love me or anything, because it would just hurt more. I still tell him I love you, sometimes. But he hasn’t said it to me since March. I just want to let go of some of the pain and move on, but I don’t feel like it’s over. I feel like it can be worked out, like it should be worked out. I don’t want to give up.

I love my son. I love him more than life. I try hard to do what is best for his future every day. I don’t drink, smoke, do drugs… any of that. I take care of him and love every minute of it. But this is distracting me. This is hurting me and no matter what people say, it doesn’t feel better through anything. My son deserves the best, and part of that is my happiness. I want to be happy, again. How do I gain happiness again? I pray. I cry. I run. Nothing.

I did think I was pregnant and had a missed period for reason. Turns out, I’m not. Thank God. But he said he wasn’t the father, anyways. Which he would have been… but to hear him deny it just hurt more.

Maybe one day he’ll get on here and put his point of view… that may help me understand more of his side, too. I can try and convince him, I guess. Thanks for reading, girls and guys. 🙂