One Year

One year ago, I was sobbing into my pillow as my then-boyfriend readied himself to go to Basic Combat Training (BCT). We Skyped one last time, ironically on the date of our one-year anniversary. It was a long-distance relationship, and I thought it had been going rather well.

I received a phone call from him every single night he was in reception, and he even Facebooked me when he had internet access. I wrote him three letters a week and sent them. And then I waited.

And I waited.

I wrote him over 400 pages of love letters, three per week, wasted at least two stamps per letter, and what did I get back? Six pages.

Four pages of "updates" in the first two letters he sent. That was the first two weeks he was in Basic. And then the last two pages were in the break-up letter. 

Yes, that's right. The dirtbag broke up with me through a letter.

If you're looking up stuff on Specialist Charles James William Smith, an Army Bandsman, then I'm happy to tell you that he is a manipulator, a liar, emotionally and psychologically abusive, and enjoys controlling people around him. I didn't even realize it while we were dating, but the more I talk about my relationship, the more I realize just how horrible of a person he was to me. He hit me once. I was trying to get him out of a shop in the mall, and he turned around and punched me in the leg. I had a bruise for about two weeks, but nobody ever saw it.

He kept me from going out and being myself. 

"You want to dye your hair? Why? Want to look like a freak?"
"You cut your hair above your shoulders? ... At least it'll grow out."
"You didn't seriously wear that today, did you?"

He only cared about what I looked like on camera, and only then if I was wearing as little clothing as possible. He wouldn't look me in the eyes at times. He cared more about himself in the relationship than he cared about us in the relationship. He didn't put any time into it for me. I was there to please him, and if I didn't, then he got fussy and cranky, just like a spoiled child.

I'm so glad I'm no longer with him. Even though the break-up was emotionally devastating to me, what with the emotional trauma and the psychological issues I had to go through (the waking up and screaming in the middle of the night because I didn't believe I was good enough, that I was an absolutely worthless piece of dunderheaded fluff, certainly didn't help my psyche at all), I'm so glad I moved on.

It's been one year since my ex left me, although he didn't officially end things until May 28 (one week before we were supposed to be reunited). The coward kept me pining after him, in heartache and confusion, for nearly two months while he sat back and laughed at my letters.

It's been almost five months since I started dating my boyfriend, Matt. The difference between Matthew and Charles is that Charles is a psychologically abusive control freak and Matthew is caring and understanding.

I wish I'd been able to see it sooner. I could've saved myself a ton of heartache and drama if I'd just given up on him when he stopped writing back.

At the same time, though, I now actually have a future to look forward to. Going into the military life again? How on earth could I have thought that'd be the way that I wanted to finish out my life? Moving time after time after time, again and again, just like I had during my childhood? What was I thinking? (I am in no way knocking military life, by the way. That was my childhood, and made me who I am today. I'm just not cut out for it any more. I want to settle down, have a house that I can customize to my heart's content.) 

I have someone who loves me, and I have someone (who was also emotionally and psychologically abused) who knows how not to do relationships at my side. We're in this to win this. I'm only sorry that it took me so long to figure it out. I'm not looking for the brave, macho person; I'm looking for the kind and caring person that actually wants to hold me and be close without needing a "reason" to do so.

So for those of you out there, don't you dare settle. I thought that, since I was seventeen, I was too "old" to find someone out there who would want me. I was willing to settle for the first person who looked my way. That turned into the worst decision of my life. Because I chose to settle, I lost who I really was, and it took me a long time to bounce back from a year of psychological abuse.

It's going to be okay. And if you want to talk, I'm here to talk. I don't want to see others make my mistake. For the time being, though, I'm going to go and find something to take my pills with. I'll see if I can post something later this week...if I'm conscious enough after vacation and long shifts at TreeTop!