When "We" become "I"

Sometimes things are not what we believe they are. We think we know how life is, we think we know what's in front of us and we rely on our hearts and our vows to hold strong and true. We believe that we will make it, we will be survivors. What we don't know is that sometimes we survive alone and not together.

Alone, even when we're never alone, a person can feel alone. Human nature is not big on loneliness. We thrive on our experiences with one another. Our social lives would not exist if we didn't rely on others to interact with us. The question is, how do you know what the next step is when you find yourself split in two? When there is no more "We" only "I".

I loved him from day one. His sad gray eyes and his tendency to sport a "Loner" sign. I wanted to know what made him tick. Why he was how he was. If there was more to him than that slightly depressive look that he had while he was walking through the halls at school with his Green backpack in tow and his massive headphones on with discman in hand. I'm sure that Nirvana had to have been playing. Why wouldn't they be? His life was as melancholy as Kurdt Cobain's end, or so it would appear he believed it to be.

I followed him to my first English class of freshman year. I immaturely made faces at him during class to see if that sadness could invert. It did. He looked at me and made a face back. It was childish I know, but we didn't care. It was the beginning of something that neither one of us knew how to control. I fell in love with him over the scoldings of Mr. K. We would meet everyday before school and then in between classes. On weekends we would go to each others homes and hang out listening to music, watching movies like Airplane and Hot Shots. He loved comedy yet the irony was that his life was anything but.

That first summer I had my tonsils out, I was full of spit and vinegar toward the situation. I blamed my parents, well, mostly my mom. I didn't want to do this, surgery terrifies me. I was forced under the knife to put it dramatically. I lived. But when I came to I was greeted by a call of sadness from him. His parents were separating. We speculated frequently about how this could happen. Why would this happen? What was the cause? He claimed he had no idea it was coming and now I know that for most people it would be hard to not notice but for him, it makes sense. They divorced and remarried and life went on but many wounds were not healed.

We broke up in January. He didn't care if I was in his life it appeared. I wanted attention. I wanted to feel loved and desired. Some things he did showed this, but others didn't. I was young but i knew that there had to be more passion. Not a day didn't go by that I didn't want him back. But then he no longer wanted me. He found someone else with as much distaste for life and the world as he had. Her name isn't important but to those involved and she knows who she is. She doesn't know how much I hated her those days, even though it wasn't her fault that he wanted to be with her. He hated me for my decisions at that time as well. One guy in particular showed me he wanted my attention and that burned him up inside. He hated him. He brings it up still 15 years later. What for? It was high school.

Years past and relationships for me came and went but he never left my mind. One day it was time to say goodbye. I wrote him a letter. College was coming and i wanted to leave with a clear head and conscience that I did all I could. I told him I wished him the best and good luck. Before I left I met another guy. This guy was the thorn in my side for five months. Of course when the new guy came along, at that point my long lost love decided he wanted me back. I told him no. It was now his turn to wait. Five months later I'd had enough of the vanity king and decided to reignite my old flame. Now he wanted me.

We caught fire and people made comments like "you two are so sickeningly cute together," and we both loved it. We believed we loved one another. We decided to get married. He didn't help with any of the planning really. A clue perhaps. No one commented on whether or not they thought we should be together. That entire time I thought people believed we were a match.

The wedding day came and it was like a satire in some ways. I was in my own world thinking. When we saw each other that day for the first time I remember thinking "his reaction is not as excited as I thought it would be." After the ceremony it was like we went our separate ways, he hung out with the boys as we went to a bar downtown. Then at the reception we ate together and did the traditional dances together but most of the night he was at the bar with the boys. The first dance song skipped. My sister in-law to be's mother bitched me out and I'd never met her before that day; he didn't protect me. I was blind. But not to what happened to me. My night was ruined all because of mettlesome in-laws. Not a very good start to a marriage. It took years to get over that to some degree.

We moved to Hudson and started our married life. He didn't want me. I Loved him, but he hadn't been the same since that last semester of school. I thought it was stress. It was more. The melancholy boy from high school was still hanging around and his strength was growing.

He was no longer the man I fell in love with. I found myself right back in the same situation I was in during high school. Leaving because he could live without me.

What happened over the five years of marriage, really doesn't matter. In the end a marriage cannot work if love and passion and a desire for one another is not present. You need to put your health and well being first but after that your spouse should be number one. If you can let love walk out the door without a single protest, even through melancholy eyes. You didn't need that person after all.

Walking away from the past is not easy. It's painful knowing you didn't want to go but you have no choice because the person you fell in love with no longer cares. One might argue that it could have worked. It could have been fixed. To fix it would have required him to say something like "I need you to help me through this, I love you." Instead it is silence that kills.

I come away from this with the knowledge that he may have never loved me. I may never gain true understanding or closure of what happened. I also know that there are people in my life who love me more than he ever did. I know that despite the pain and heartache inside, i will be okay because I am tough. I have been through a lot and I always find a way to resurface and I hope that he does too.