Well, sort of.
I don't know if it's just my sort of luck to keep finding these guys who start off as wonderful people, only to turn into monsters, or if it's my miserable form of fate that I'm bound to be repeating for the rest of my life.
Alright, let me re-cap. Most of the people who have read at least one of my posts knows that I've gotten over one terrible pick of an ex, Mike. So, before you start losing your minds thinking I'm going to be venting about him again, the answer is no. He's been out of my life for almost a year steady now, and I'd like to keep it that way.
Along my journey of writing-withdrawal, I took solace in my new laptop and the ability to play World of Warcraft. Yes, I'm a nerd, go ahead and laugh. I must admit, it was a good distraction. It killed my depression over all of my 'friends' from high school leaving me for college, gave me comfort when I was considered 'important' to a raid group, and all other forms of nerd-talk. I found something that interested me, and didn't pressure me, unlike my writing had become. My little book soon got stuffed into a corner, out of sight but certainly not forgotten. Even during the moments I was least expecting it, I found myself jotting down plots twists, conflicts, small conversations, anything to increase it's weight and worth and build a strong story.
Outside of my little plot jots, I got a job working in a sports store. Nothing huge, but at eight dollars an hour and only requiring me to work on weekends, well, I wasn't going to snub the position. At home, I spent my time on my game, upon where I'd meet the average male player: old, living in his parent's home, oh, and sporting a huge ego that they'd stroke given any chance.
One of these so-called ego-strokers was someone by the name of Gfox, his character name. I never learned anyone's names outside of their characters, simply because you never knew who you'd be talking to the next day, and I wasn't about to get emotionally invested in anyone or anything. Gfox from the start, reminded me of another fellow player who I had accidentally gotten too emotionally invested in only months earlier; cocky, demanding, and cynically sarcastic in every way possible. It didn't take Gfox long to have me snarling and spitting insults at him, putting him on my ignore list, and rolling my eyes at any given moment he would try and talk to me.
Things rolled smoothly like that until New Years. I had convinced mom to buy some Smirnoff to split between myself and my friend Steph, who stayed for the night as we watched the ball drop, buzzed and giddy. For kicks and giggles, I logged online and, sure enough, Gfox was online. In my happy little buzz, I cheerfully ripped into him about how he was all alone and on a video game for New Years, stabbing at anything I could just to get a rise out of him. He passed the microphone over to one of his friends, Frank, and from there it turned into a crapshoot. How was I supposed to know Frank was the warm up so Gfox could talk to me, causally, like a normal human being?
I ended up giving Gfox my phone number that night, and two nights later, he called me. He talked me to sleep, playing on my weakness of men with twangs and soft voices. It was probably one of the best nights of sleep I'd had in over six months. And more shortly followed.
It wasn't too long down the road, but Gfox and I were exchanging names, little stories, opening up to each other like a flower to the rising sun. I was his rose and he was my beacon of light, sparkling the dew drops on my petals. His name was Gaylon, he lived in Texas, and he was in love with me. One day he asked me how long-distance relationships work, and after playing back and forth off each other's answers, we figured we'd give it a shot. We officially started our relationship on the 19th of January this year.
Over these last few months, it's been nothing but a fairytale. Even with him being hundreds upon thousands of miles away from me, we found a way to work over the little things? Movie? Netflix and Skype with screen-sharing. We used webcams, nothing sexual mind you, and just chatted, and eventually started using them when going to bed, he mostly making sure I was asleep, watching over me like a guardian. There's just something about him that quells my anger, keeps me level-headed about myself, and as my mother would put it, "brings out something different in you, something good, but different. Nothing Mike or anyone else has ever brought out."
Of course, with long-distance comes hardship. We've had our days were we've struggled with the lack of human comfort and touch. I've had my days of pure depression where I didn't even want to climb out of bed, and while he'd tell me everything was alright, I knew it was hurting him that all he could do was watch me toss and turn and cry repeatedly until I decided to snap out of it.
It's only been recently that we've really hit our first hard wall. My birthday was the past 11th, last Sunday, and while the days prior were off-beat, I didn't think too much of it. But when he promised me my own day for my birthday, only to not call or acknowledge me for almost the entire day, I felt myself collapse mentally. Immediately I wondered what I did wrong. Did I say something insulting? Did I miss an important sentence, word, or key trigger?
It spiraled out worse in a matter of hours. I called him late that night, determined to find out what was wrong. After almost two hours of harassing him with him pleading me not to keep pestering him, he caved and said something that shook me.
"I think we need to re-evaluate our relationship."
Naturally, I felt myself wanting to cry, to scream. This was the second guy, and just like Mike, everything looked fine, then suddenly dropped cold. What was I doing wrong? Holding in every ounce of my emotions, I asked what he meant, and when the word 'break' came into play, I knew it was grim. Contrary to when Mike broke it off with me, I didn't burst into tears or have hysterics. I calmly told him that was his choice, and that I'd respect it, and wished him the best.
As soon as the phone was down and off, I sobbed. My mother told me that both my father and my sister on the floor below me could hear me clear as day, and while I was thankful none of them tried to console me, I was disappointed none acknowledged my ruined relationship. I lost time of how long I sat there in front of my computer, in the middle of a video game, letting the tears run down my face as I hugged my legs tightly to my chest, my mind going numb. Surely I had to be some kind of monster to do this not once, but twice. Surely I was a freak, a selfish, over-emotional nightmare. I had to be the girl every guy wished they'd never meet, much less have to date and deal with.
It took some time, but by 4 in the morning, I'd gathered myself together enough to keep my head level as I called Gaylon back. To my surprise, he was awake when I called, and, by his tone, not happy, either. Slowly I pushed into the topic, digging for the reason why he wanted me gone so suddenly. With reluctance, he told me he was going out to look for jobs again, and wanted to go back to school. When I asked him what was so wrong with that, he reminded me of the fact that the last time he underwent schooling and work at the same time, his stress skyrocketed, and he became the cynical bastard I first met back in November. "I don't want to hurt you, Livi. That's why I want you out. I don't want to hurt you."
I'll admit, I laughed. I almost started giggling. That was it? He was afraid of mentally hurting me? Yes, it was a slight worry, but enough to want me gone for good? Not a chance. I told him, amidst the receding giggles, that there was no way he could hurt me like that. That him shutting me out was, and would continue, to hurt me far more than if he swore at me and said some rude things. So, in a tight spot, we agreed to keep trying, and to roll with the punches.
The first thing I did was ask my mother for advice. Corny, I know, but she's known so much so far, I figured she'd know what to do here. Her response? Give him space. Let him come to me. And as much as it hurt, I knew she was right. If I kept calling him every 5 hours, he was going to feel smothered and closed-in, and he'd only distance himself from me. But if I kept myself casual, let him start the conversations, I figured he'd come back and open up to me.
Trusting her advice, I've only gone through 2-3 days so far of this new set-up. And already I can feel it straining on me. We didn't talk for almost two days until just tonight, when he called me and we chatted. He reminded me he loved me, and even did his silly but cute little emote of him picking me up and holding me close. It's moments like those that I wish would never end, but I know as the pressure mounts onto him, he's going to distance himself more and more from me on some days, and some days he'll be glued to my hip. Does this please me? Not in the least, and to be honest, it scares the living crap out of me. I'm sure I'll have many days where my depression will hit hard because of this, and I'll want nothing more to do then cry all day and hug my pillow. But when I said I was in for the long-run with this relationship, I meant it. I don't quit, I don't give up, until he spitefully tells me he doesn't love me anymore and wants me gone.
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