Funny how this issue is called “Open your wings” when that’s exactly what, 1. I’ve been having the most trouble doing and, 2. Was intending on writing about when I began this analogy.
So I guess I should begin. I’ve been trying to think of a way of saying what I’m trying to say without actually saying it, but actually saying it would probably just be the easiest way to say it and the most beneficial to me...I just hate bringing it all up. It hurts still.
But! If this helps someone else, I’ve made beauty out of the ugliness of this.
So. Let me start from the beginning which is actually before any of this happened.
As you all SHOULD know, if you read “Swing back the door!” (If not, go read it! Yes, it’s necessary. It’s a “series” for a reason.) So, as you all know, I lived somewhere and then had to end up moving. This, of course, entails that.
So I stated in “Swing back the door!” that the day I packed my things and put them on the moving truck I had etc, etc, etc, right? Alright. One of those things was a boyfriend, yes? Here we go! Buckle up.
I’m honestly going to try to make this as easy as possible for you guys, though this was a horrible situation for me.
I’ve been trying to decide if I want to use his actual name or not, but I think I will, because you guys don’t know me, so you probably don’t know him. Plus a lot of people have his first name. His name is Tanner.
Tanner is a paid fire fighter. Some side story there.
Alright!
So I had to move. At that time we lived about 15-20 minutes apart and I spent almost every evening with him. It was great. It really was. He was everything I’d been looking for and more. Still to this day I don’t know what really happened to this version of him. We promised each other we’d see each other every weekend once I moved.
After I moved, things changed, as things do, and we ended up settling on every other weekend. It was a 21/2 hour drive, after all.
He started volunteering at a fire department, I did whatever I did, we had our own lives. Every other weekend we hung out.
I don’t exactly know how this came up, but somehow it did, we discussed me moving in with him. Getting my old life back, per say. I knew this wouldn’t go over well with my family and I figured it probably never would happen. Just talk.
But for some reason I guess I felt it had to happen to save my relationship and finally, I told my family I was moving out and moving back to where we’d lived and in with him.
This tore everything apart. My mom flipped out. She took my car. (If you know me, you know how much I love my car!) She took everything. She told me if I went, I could go without it.
To this day, I don’t know how I did it. But I left. I left most everything including my beloved car and went to save my relationship.
I’d lost two of the things that meant the most to me: my mom and my car. (Just a side note which will become important later!!)
Things were different. You know how you can feel vibes, well they were different, but I brushed it off.
1. I mentioned before that he’d started volunteering at a volunteer fire department.
Heres the thing about this. He worked from 8-5. After work, most days, he’d come home, grab clothes and other things he needed and then go to the volunteer fire department for the rest of the night.
It wasn’t the volunteering that was the problem. It was that it was every night. I never saw him. So, I asked him to just cut back a bit. Not quit. Just don’t volunteer every night. He didn’t want to do that. “If I have to choose between fire fighting and you, I choose fire fighting.” I wasn’t even making him choose. I don’t think I’ll ever forget those words.
When he was home, which was rare, he slept because he was exhausted from being up all night at the fire department. That’s not spending time together either.
(REASON #1 WE’RE NOT TOGETHER.)
2. He likes to drink. Not really a big deal. But I don’t necessarily like it. I guess maybe I could’ve had more of an open mind in this situation, but I didn’t. I didn’t want him to drink at all because it could hurt him. Regardless, he didn’t have enough respect for me that he took my feelings into account as he drank a good amount and refused to stop. As I said, I could’ve had more of an open mind.
(REASON #2 WE’RE NOT TOGETHER.)
3/Final. His family is from Canada. His brother was getting married and they were to make a trip up there for the wedding. So, up to Canada we went. It was pretty, it really was. A nice wedding too. Though I didn’t really get the chance to appreciate the trip because I was consumed by Tanner. The entire trip he basically ignored me and was drunk as could be. He left me with his family and partied. Not only did I not like the drinking, I didn’t like him not speaking to me much, not talking to me much, etc. He even drunkenly screamed at me in front of everyone and hit on another girl. Thinking about the trip makes me feel sick to my stomach.
After arriving back home, USA!!, I moved out. That was it. I moved home. Since then, we’ve spoken twice or so. Not any in the last 8-9-10, oh I don’t know, months.
So now you know everything.
I gave up EVERYTHING for that boy. My most precious things. My family. EVERYTHING. And he couldn’t limit himself or take my feelings into consideration.
And I guess that’s what I don’t get.
After all that I gave up to save us, why didn’t he try to save us just as hard?
What happened to the Tanner that I had before I moved?
I even sometimes wonder, did he love me at all?
There are still so many questions. So many I’ll never have the answer for. And there is still so much pain. Sometimes I wonder if it’ll ever go away, seeing that it’s a year and counting since this took place.
He has a new girlfriend now. When my cousin told me (don’t ask why he knew) I had to hold myself together. I didn’t want him or anyone else to see how badly that affected me after all this time.
I still dream about him, I still think about him, I still hurt. I don’t know how to stop. I honestly don’t know what to do.
So I created this series about a bird in a cage who broke her chains, swung back her door and is now spreading her wings, readying to fly. (I also have a tattoo of a bird coming out of a cage which is where I got the idea.)
I don’t know when I’ll be ready to fly and leave it all behind, but when I do, I will write the issue called “Fly!” which will tell how I finally overcame it all.
This is part of my story. This is part of who I am.
Thank you all so much for reading this. For caring enough to get this far. May you all open your wings!
©️ Madison B Barrett
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