The blowout with Casey was a quite a wake-up call. It was just the slap in the face I needed to get over him, to finally end things with him once and for all. Not like he was crawling back to me or anything; he was too busy trying to convince Katie I was trying turn her against him so I could have him all to myself, once and for all. No, thank you.
It's sad that it took finding out he's physically abusive to finally break his hold on me. Before the blowout, every time I told him I was done with him, not to talk to me again, it worked for a couple weeks, maybe a month. But then eventually I'd miss him holding me at night. I'd miss waking up in his arms. I'd miss kissing his soft skin and rock-hard abs. And then I'd cave and let him back in. Not this time. All I had to do was close my eyes and picture the look on Katie's face when she told me he'd abused her. Anyone who could instill that much pain and fear in a beautiful young girl was not welcome in my bed.
So I didn't cave. Instead, I wrote. I wrote down whatever I was feeling. Sometimes I cried while I wrote. Other times I smiled. (Feel free to skip this part if you're not much for crappy poems)
My favorite escape from life.
Where my dreams take me to another world
with my favorite pillow, lumpy and firm.
My bed is now a prison,
the last place I want to be.
because you're not in it.
The covers suffocate me,
because they're not your arms.
My pillow no longer compares to your smooth chest.
My alarm clock taunts me every morning
because it pulls me out of that other world
and wakes me to see nothing,
No longer do I have to pull myself out of bed
and see you snuggled, warm and peaceful
while I grunt and groan about having to get up.
No longer will I have to be envious of your quiet sleep
while I destroy my closet figuring out what to wear
And no longer will I have to worry about you
pulling me back into bed "just for a few minutes."
No longer will I have to kiss your warm cheek
and leave you for the day
in my bed.
My favorite place.
I realized I'd spent two and a half years with an abuser, all the while I had the most perfect thing right in front of me. Will was smart, funny, adorable, happy, and would never, EVER lay a hand on a girl. And I'd passed all of that up for Casey. Casey with his tattoos, his dark past, his temper, his hidden violence. I started to wonder if nice guys really did finish last. Was I doomed with always wanting the bad guy, when the good guy is clearly the better option? Was I that shitty of a person? I wanted to think no, but all signs were pointing to yes.
I almost wished Casey had hit me, just so I'd had a reason to leave him earlier. But would I have left? Would I have fought back? Would I have survived it? Or would I have ended up like Katie, three years into a relationship with someone who'd bruised her and made her bleed? I wasn't going to find out. But from that day on, I swore to myself I'd never be with a guy who made me feel even a fraction of the fear or pain Katie felt.
Closing the Casey chapter of my life made me want to run into Will's arms. I always felt safe with Will. He'd protect me. He'd never let anything hurt me. But I couldn't. I knew I was hurt and vulnerable, therefore I needed to fix myself before I'd let anyone else fix me. Will was always there to pick me up. But this time I didn't fall, so he didn't catch me. I planted my feet and stood my ground. I was not going to crumble.
I assumed that once my hurt and vulnerability subsided, my feelings for Will would ease back into friendship. I'd be fine on my own, right?
Two months later, Will and Jaelyn broke up.
And I poured my heart out to Will.