People may say I’m broken, but I prefer the term, ‘damaged’. I’m not so damaged that I’m bitter, or have my walls up too high, no. I still have hope that my life will get better.
I live each day with open arms. I treat people the way I want to be treated, with respect. I don’t care about anything but your attitude. I won’t judge you for anything else, like I don’t want to be judged.
I’m damaged, because my father damaged me. He’s been abusing me for years. Physically, verbally, and emotionally. There have been points where I thought I was going to die. He ruined me, he does nothing but hurt me. And buy me things. Because that so obviously solves everything, right? Wrong.
I’ve been in a relationship for about 5months last year. It was the greatest, yet worst, relationship I’ve ever been in. The guy wasn’t horrible, he just had commitment issues. And he runs away from his problems.
He was older. He was, however, less mature than me. It doesn’t sound like a nice thing to say, and it seems biased. I know that. But let me tell you the story.
I’ve known this guy for three years. Let’s pretend his name is Ryan. He was, in the beginning, a player, pothead, alcoholic, and jerk. He always, for as long as I’ve known him, believed that girls would just fall like dominoes for him. Some did. A lot did, actually, and I think I’ve finally figured it out. He has a way of making people feel special.
He was going out with a girl, let’s pretend her name is, Sarah. Sarah, as far as I know, isn’t a bad person. She’s always been sexually active, and that was pretty much their entire relationship. There was no substance, as far as I, an outsider, could tell. But she loved him. He made her feel special.
One night, I met him. He was still in a relationship with Sarah, but he started hitting on me. Hard. In front of my older, protective brother. I liked Ryan, a lot. I didn’t know he was taken. I actually only knew him through my brother. Let’s call him Al.
I rejected Ryan. I rejected him because he was drunk, because my brother was there, and because he as one hell of a reputation.
A few months later, we met again. He hit on me again. I rejected him again. Sarah befriended me, and so I knew a little more about him. He broke her heart. He broke up with her for an older girl named, Ally.
Ally has beautiful eyes. She’s actually pretty, and I know nothing about her. But because of this entire story, I hold some vague resentment towards her.
He dated Ally for less than a month, before she left the country. They moved in together before she left. He fell hard for her, so he gave long distance a try. It lasted 3 years. Until she left him.
He was heartbroken. He completely lost it. He went into a low state of depression. Then he reached out to me.
This time, I was 17. He was 20. We were older, wiser, and both completely changed people.
Before that, by 3months, I got out of a relationship. I didn’t cry over the guy, but it hurt. I never cried over guys. Not until Ryan came along.
I avoided Ryan for a bit. I was scared. He just got dumped. I was not willing to be used as rebound. But soon, we found our ways back to each other, again.
My first semester of university had just begun. And I was ditching. A lot. A lot lot. A looooooot.
In my defense, I was 17. And my dad never let me go anywhere alone. He’s a control freak, and always has to have his eyes on me.
My escape? School time. And I regret nothing.
Ryan and I dated a lot. People didn’t like us together. They talked.
I’m a good girl, and everybody could see that. They thought he was corrupting me. As though I didn’t have a mind of my own. As though it actually meant anything to any of them. They broke him down.
I seriously thought he was the one. He lied a lot, and I always saw through it. But his sincerity was beautiful. I can’t explain it, but when he said something from the heart, it’d send me dreaming. It meant so much to me, and still does mean that much, if not more.
I couldn’t always go out to see him, but I jumped at every opportunity. I’d sneak out of my house, ditch my friends, skip school, lie to my family, but he wouldn’t have done any of that for me. I dropped everything , for nothing.
One night, Al, my brother found out that I was going out with Ryan. Ryan was as old as Al, and since they were friends, Al knew Ryan pretty well. Al told my father about it.
God forbid than anybody ever experiences the kind of pain I felt that night. I was abused so bad; my blood was everywhere. My whole body was swollen. It went on for months. I thought I was going to die. The verbal abuse and emotional abuse never stopped, either.
That first night, I went back to my room, and I checked my phone. I had a few messages from him, pretty much saying that it’s over.
I thought I’d be okay. Every time something bad happened to me, I felt better, remembering that I had him.
And then he was gone. And all the pain rushed in. I was devastated, and I don’t know how to be okay again.
I have a lot of dreams, and I’m doing everything in my power to achieve them. It’s going to take a while, but with a little help, I can do it. I’m trying to get recognized as a blogger, I want to post covers on YouTube (but my recording system sucks, so I need to earn money first, but my dad doesn’t let me work), and hopefully, I can build a sturdy fanbase over time, and with that fame, I wouldn’t have to deal with my dad. I’d kick him out of my life, and maybe sue him? And he won’t touch me ever again.
Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she? Even if she’s scarred.
Thanks for reading!