May 7th, 2017 Journal entry 1
So I decided to buy this journal because I've had a lot on my mind lately.
Most of it concerning you, Max. Over the past few weeks, I've been replaying our entire relationship in my head because I just broke up with a guy I thought was the one.
Sort of like how I thought you were the one. Now at one in the morning, a little less than sober, I can't get you out of my head.
We met in seventh grade but didn't talk to each other until eighth. From that point on, it was like we were inseparable. We went everywhere and did everything together.
You helped me get over my irrational fear of escalators, and I was your designated driver pretty much every other night.
I remember in particular one night in tenth grade being really bad though. You told me your dad came home drunk again, and was hitting your mom.
You went to stop him, and he pushed you so hard he fractured your rib. You fought him off of your mom, and when he was finally off, you beat the shit out of him.
You texted me our distress word, and I came to get you as fast as I could. I pulled around the back of your house, and you got in.
No questions asked, no answers given. That's how our relationship was, and it worked for both of us.
Then I remember on my 17th birthday, you wanted to be the first person to say happy birthday to me. We left at 10pm, to get milkshakes at DQ, then you drove us out to a field full of flowers.
At first it was too dark to see what kind of flowers they were, but as my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I realized they were my favorite. Sunflowers.
Then you went to the back of your pickup truck, got garden shears to cut out 3 flowers, and tied them together with a red ribbon.
After you handed them to me, you strung white Christmas lights around your car, and set up a picnic in the bed of the truck.
We got drunk and ate a lot of sandwiches, and then we got back inside the car.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, until you put on "The Night We Met" which was one of my favorite songs at the time.
That's when we looked over at each other, you leaned in, we kissed and you told me you loved me.
That was my first kiss, and it led to 20 minutes of losing our virginity in the backseat of your Chevy.
I remember the night before we all graduated, instead of going to the party thrown by the seniors, you took me to my favorite amusement park and proposed.
I said yes, and from that moment on, all I could do when we were together, was picture you carrying our daughter on your shoulders, and me pushing our son in a stroller.
But then reality hit. Hard. College came and you said you weren't going, because it was too much and you knew you'd never be able to pay it all off.
I told you we'd find a way to make it work like we always did. This led to our first big argument, and I said that I wouldn't go either. I said we could just runaway together instead.
You said I was being childish and unrealistic, and that if I wanted to go to college I should, because I'd be better off without you anyway.
I didn't know where all of this was coming from, but I thought you were just having a bad day, and that it'd pass.
I remember that the week after that, you called off the engagement. You told me things just weren't working out, and that we should take some time apart to figure things out.
Three weeks went by and we barely spoke, and that's when I found out I was pregnant. I thought you should know, so I called you and said we should meet face-to-face.
When I told you, you started to cry, and I thought it was because you were happy to be a dad. Turns out, you already were.
That night I cried for four hours straight replaying our conversation in my head.
You told me you left me because you were cheating on me, and you were already engaged to another woman, who was eight months pregnant with your child.
I slapped you so hard my hand was red and stinging for an hour, and you told me you deserved that.
After that day I wanted nothing to do with you, and decided to do something in my life so amazing, you'd be sorry you ever left me.
Now here I am in my six million dollar mansion, with our two-year-old daughter Madison sleeping in her room upstairs, and a warm body in the bed next to me, sound asleep.
That Halsey song "Eyes Closed" is all I can hear when I think about you, Max, because if I keep my eyes closed he does feel just like you. But like she says, "he'll never stay, they never do."
This is the fourth guy I've been with since I broke up with my boyfriend six months ago, but no matter who I'm with, all I can ever think about is you.
But you've been replaced.
I'm face-to-face with someone new.