Go get the popcorn, because this is a story ended in 2013. And part of my ranting about how stupid I was for not breaking up with the a$$ sooner.
It took me 6 months to break up with him.
I was dating my best friends brother…he was my first boyfriend. He was really sweet and caring at first, gave me the nickname “Swan”, because of the children’s book “The Ugly Duckling”. We were talking and talking and he asked me out. I was 18 at the time ( I’m 23 now ) and I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. We watched Starwars on our first date, then went for a romantic walk. I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. I came home to my mom and two of my co-workers sitting on the front porch and asking me if he was a good kisser. After a while, it all became a little too routine. He would come into town from Lethbridge, late at night, and stay at his parents in, and we would stay, and I would be there until about 2am. Then it all became really un-natural when he tried to have sex with me. I’ve never been with anyone, and I would feel a great big pit of guilt at the end, and fake a stomach-ache and pretend that I was stressing about school or something. It started to get to the point where he was trying to sexually assault me.
After I got accepted into my dream college ( Alberta College of Art + Design. OMG ) and he was never really supportive of anything, and whenever we talked on the phone, I would end up crying, and he would always ask me ” Is the a mountain or is this a mole hill? “. Then he started getting really controlling, telling me what time of the day I should be taking my showers. Then came the day that we were drawing nudes in class, and he asked me how we drew the penis, and I told him that we just squared it off. He began to yell at me, and saying that we weren’t supposed to draw it like that. I wasn’t the tell it like it is sort of woman like I am now, so I didn’t tell him to go f himself like I should’ve.
Then came the day…that he told me not to talk to him for three weeks because he was “working”. I started to think that he was cheating on me.
After major persuasion from…everyone…to dump his ass, I finally did. Best decision ever. Sure, it took me six months to do so, and I was crying like a baby afterwards, but I’m a stronger woman because of it.
Even though the break up was 3 years ago, I feel that this is the final step in getting over the bastard ( excuse my language. )
Care to help me do so?
