I was barely 17.

I was in love with him; I really believed that.

He had a girlfriend, whom he lied to every day.

He lied to me most of the time.

It felt like he cared only about himself.

He never was in love with me; he always admitted he didn'tt really love me, or at least, "not like like"after taking advantage of me.

I felt used.

He never showed up on time.

He forgot all his promises.

He treated me so poorly.

Nobody Knows.

And what infuriates me most,

Everyone loves him.

He has a new girl now.

Maybe he has several.

She denies everything I've said.

His first ex denied everything as well.

They said I was crazy and stupid.

I felt alone.

I was only trying to help them by telling the truth.

I guess the truth only helps people if they're willing to accept it.

My mother and I had stopped much communication after I started college. We lost touch. My family was far away and they couldn't protect me anymore. It wasn't supposed to be that way. I was supposed to go to events and meet friends but from day one he'd pulled me into his twisted, tangles world. I was too embarrassed to admit this to my family.

The physical abuse was very rare; but time to time I was restrained and actually felt fear, held down, he once tore off my pants, threw me down when he "was done" while choking without an ability to speak. He left immediately afterwards without any words or comfort or even helping me up, as if that was some sort of normal occurrence. I won't say the four letter word aloud; It hurts. But it wasn't the first time he'd done it, and it wasn't the last; it was just the worst. His excuse was, Ï thought you wanted it because of that rape fantasy thing." I knew at that moment my opinion no longer mattered, and I questioned as to whether I was truly asking for it or not; I remember feeling violated, but he always twisted it to make it seem like I had asked for it, and that's why for so long, I didn't admit that I truly was what I didn't want to believe what it was. Who is going to believe me now? I've waited too long to express the remaining darkness that haunts my every moment.

Frankly, I'd spell it out, all the reasons this boy destroyed me from inside to out, but that's not the point. I'm not writing this article to complain. I cannot put my mind to rest until I know that someone has heard me. I need to know that my words matter. Here we are telling women to stand up for domestic abuse and any sort of poor treatment at all, and yet we stand there not believing them; we may not all have bruises, but our hearts are black and our brains don't wish to be alive. but my brain is trying to protect itself by erasing my past. I feel like two entire years of my life were completely wasted. I wasn't a person. I wish I could have those years back. Frankly, I don't remember them. I never imagined there'd be such a feeling when I couldn't remember two years of my life, just flashes that come and go. I, not proudly, was driven to suicidal depression due to the way that he treated me. Being who I am, and crying over cute puppies, I was never able to put the ideology even close to action.

I was then 18. I had nobody. I was never unfriendly, in fact I loved all the people in my classes. I was scared of him and whenever he was going to whisk me away to go to dinner or whatever the hell he wanted, since what I wanted didn't matter. But there were several weeks....weeks nobody even noticed me gone, weeks I won't remember. I slept for two weeks straight at one time. My grades suffered immensely. The severity of my depression, (and that nobody at the time believed what I was going through), increased the hopelessness. There was no reason I wanted to get out of my bed. I wanted to shut my eyes and pretend the world didn't exist. I didn't want to die; I just wanted to wake up when it was all over. I would pass out at 3pm, and wake up after haunting nightmares, where it would take me a moment to adjust to reality. The common theme in the dreams was that: I would know I was having a nightmare, and I'd be screaming in my dream to try and get myself to wake up,and my eyes would never open. Was this hell? Is this all a punishment for turning away from religion? This was somehow paralleled by corrupting insomnia.

I've been told by anyone who meets me and befriends me that I share too much sometimes, really quickly, but the thing is: I have to tell people what happened to me; not because I want to; I have to. I am a completely different person because I have been through what I went through. That can be applied to everyone, but to me the right to tell others the damn outright truth is okay. And I'm okay with the fact that not everybody will like me as I won't like everybody else. But for once in what feels like a lifetime, I want respect; I'm earning respect; I'm taking back my humanity. I feel like me for the first time in a long time, and I'm falling head over heels in love with myself.

When you come out of a bad situation, it can be easy to want to call up or contact the person and yell at them or cry and ask stupid things and say stupid things and do stupid things. I always was able to immediately stop these thoughts by asking myself one question, "How did he make you feel?" My answer is always the same, "awful." If you find yourself exiting a terrible relationship, first off, GOOD FOR YOU. It may have taken a long time, or it may not have. Clearly everyone's story with a bad experience is entirely different, so advice can apply only so generally. But, every time you think you want that person back in your life, remember all the times he made you cry, he made you feel less than you were. Don't dwell. It'll stop your mind from the fantastical thinking that enables us to remember the past much better than it was. Never stop reminding yourself of the truth, the real past; don't let the insecurities and fears get in the way. You know people will judge you. You know people will support you. Why are you so scared of what people think? Remember, now, you're a person too. Let them know who you are.

At the same time, the sad truth is, even if he or she mentally manipulated or abused you, it is likely that you actually had some genuinely good times with him/her, and you'll try to remember those more than the bad ones at first. You'll try to justify everything based on that dangerous four letter word "love." You can always love a person, but you cannot be manipulated and taken advantage of by them. You must let the devil in your life go; once they are gone, you'll realize that you had the strength all along to cut the evil out of your life.

It's been over for months. And yet, I'm beginning to realize that it will never end. He haunts me. The pieces left over of the pain are laying on my heart, stuck with a small bit of permanent darkness. They won't go away. Losing a loved one never gets easier. Tragedy is unforgotten. In this same way, he haunts me. He haunts me in the streets. He haunts me in the stairwells. He haunts me on the subway. He haunts me near my school. He haunts me in my dreams. He's caused strife between my boyfriend and I. Nothing new has happened in the past eight months that he's been gone, but the sad truth is, the worst of it will always remain. You need to learn to deal with it. Luckily for me, my boyfriend gives me the tough love (I HATE TOUGH LOVE BUT HE ALWAYS ENDS UP BEING RIGHT SO I THANK HIM IN A RELUCTANT BUT LOVING WAY) and I realize that being triggered by old things that caused me pain CAN be changed. He's the best boyfriend in the world for holding me and be patient with my old pain and my new tears; he knows how badly I was hurt, and he knows that all I need is comfort to get me through. New memories can be formed in old places. I used to be haunted by his face, everywhere I went, my mind would see his face on every man walking in the street. I was totally and utterly paranoid. This lasted for a while. I took longer routes to avoid him and hung around campus until I knew he wouldn't be there anymore. Once I was walking arm in arm with a new beau, and had some really great friends to hang out with, I realized that he was no longer a threat. Even if I ran into him, so what. I'd walk right by. I have people. Most importantly, I am no longer alone. This finally happened yesterday.

I'm not religious. I won't be ashamed for saying that. But, maybe I do believe that some things happen for a reason. The pain and abuse that I went through has thoroughly washed away any trace of innocence I had left and built walls all around me, thicker than the pyramids. But with that being said, the bad relationship also took away my fear, my ignorance, and naivety. It left me with, knowledge, strength, wisdom, and led me to right where I needed to be. I thought, nonstop, about how if I hadn't attended the college that I did, I would have never met this person, and I would have had a real chance at doing all the things I wanted my freshman and sophomore years of college. However, I have no way of knowing of what could have happened, and frankly I like to stay away from, "would have", "could have", "should have". All these phrases do is prompt regret. In a way unlike anything else, regret could truly tear you to pieces if you let it. So, I have my Junior year of college starting, and my Senior year ahead. I'm not at the school that I want to be at, but I've accepted where I am, and I want to make my entire family proud of me. Ever since I gained my sense of self and life back, I've been motivated to doing all that I can to improve my life. I'm taking advantages of the unique things about my school; I'm reading random books in the library, and people watching in the park near campus; I'm talking with world class professors during office hours, and visiting the Writing and Academic resource centers to learn more about how to succeed in my classes. I smile more often, even if I'm not happy. I do it to spread happiness, and sometimes it even makes me feel a little better.

Yes, I built those walls, but a crucial step in moving on is tearing them down like it's 1989. Take risks. Take chances. They are so worth it. Find yourself, even if it means renting a car you can't really afford and driving 'til you reach the sunset. You'll get there; you'll get the person that you always wanted to be back; you just need to be patient. (Yah, I know. Patience Sucks.)

Every broken road ends somewhere. I never knew how much I would relate to the Rascal Flatt's song, "Bless the Broken Road." The lyrics go,

"I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you

[Chorus:]
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like Northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
(Yes He did)

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true." (Rascal Flatts)

These words to me define the way I saved myself, or perhaps he helped me a little more than I'm giving him credit for. He was my shoulder to cry on for two years. We barely knew each other. He brought me ice cream after I cried to him because of one of the first times my ex physically hurt me and took away an innocence I would never hold onto again. We didn't know each other (at the time; he's my boyfriend now) but he let me cry in his arms. Ever since, he's been there for me. I never knew why he stuck it out. I never knew why I was worth it. To someone, you are worth everything. I'm realizing that before I do something I'm probably going to regret immediately, that to a few people, I am worth their entire world. I am not worth losing over carelessness.

I don't need everybody to care. The people that love me--those are the only people that need to care. Within the family dynamic, I think there is this ideal that we should try to make each other proud. Because of this terrible "broken road" that I was walking down, I walked myself right into the arms of a man whom I love with all my heart, who loves me just as much. I wish I could say this would have happened had I never had my life destroyed, but I don't think it would be true. And the fact that I have my boyfriend's strong sweet arms to hold me when I'm sad, or scared, or sleepy, is worth the world and I wouldn't go back and change a thing, even though getting over this will take a while. I have his hand to hold, his cheeks to kiss, his chest to rest my head on. I found love. If there is one thing any girl who has been somehow hurt or scarred by a man, NEVER give up on love, or life, or anything. The pain, actually, does end. Trust me.

Additionally, once I fully opened up to my immediate family about it, things felt better; I wasn't hiding anything anymore, and when I called from 1200 miles away, they'd know for sure if I was okay. I grew closer to my family, although it is hard to admit to anyone that loves you so much that you were ever hurt so badly.

Never let anyone down, or out in the cold. Never assume because someone is crying, they wants to be alone. Always go up to people if you think they need help. The largest problem with domestic abuse both mental and physical, mind games, and manipulation is that nobody recognizes what it does to people as seriously as it needs to be taken, and those who fall victim are embarrassed to share their stories. Many of us, we are always confused. Did they ever love us? Were we just toys? We won't know. And that hurts. That's what haunts me. I'll never know how he felt about me, and that'll haunt me until the day that I die. I want to believe that he did, or does. I want to believe that the love was real, and just like Rhianna and Chris, it just fell apart due to a misalignment of the stars. I want to believe we just found each other at the wrong place at the wrong time, but I will never know. If he's reading this, I wonder what he's thinking? Is he angry? I'd assume he would be. I didn't mean to make him angry; and frankly, unless you know me incredibly well, nobody will have any idea who he is. He can always change for the better and become a better person, but unfortunately I cannot change the past and the abusive things that happened to me during the time our paths crossed.

Most importantly of all, never silence a woman when she compiles the guts to speak up for herself. Never tell her that she's "stupid"or just "depressed". Do you know how hard it is to admit that someone is hurting you and you don't have the power at the moment to do anything about it? There were rocks laying on my chest making breathing a chore. You're asking for help and it's falling on deaf ears. People who haven't been through it don't understand, and those that have, don't speak up. LISTEN TO WOMEN. Listen to men. Listen to anyone who is nervously admitting to being a victim. Don't silence them. It voids their humanity. That's how I felt when I was starting to be told, "Just smile", "just be happy", "just go for a walk or something.", "you're not depressed you just are going through a rough time.", "oh come on, stop exaggerating." Don't let yourself be silenced. Keep speaking until you have helped at least one person. Your experience can be used for the greater good. You can help people.

Am I alone in being afraid yet at the same time wanting to see him walk by? Wanting him to be unhappy, and afraid he'll be happy? I struggle the most with why he gets away home free. Nobody listened to the truth about him because they didn't see through him, or don't as I should say. I cannot understand how a girl with any self respect would still love a boy whom has cheated on all these girls many times? They all stand up for him, saying he has problems just like everyone else. When did that become okay? See I was never a girlfriend, I was the (abused) girl on the side that he took his shit out on. If I was truly the only one he destroyed, then why me? Why me, why a bright-eyed seventeen year old girl with a huge world of dreams ahead of her? Was it fun to crush her? Why do these girls still love him? I'm holding onto my dignity. I kept it locked up in my heart all those times I was crying. I knew one day I'd be happy again; I'd always just wish for that day to come sooner.

I truly wish for these girls and the next ones after that to stand up for themselves if he hurts them. None of it is acceptable. I would never accept that kind of treatment from my boyfriend. We pretty much only argue most of the time about something stupid like how I stole a bite of food from his plate or something even stupider, like how we can NEVER seem to find anything on Netflix that we both want to watch and we just kinda sit there on the couch all pouty. And the few times we've went through real shit as a couple, it made us stronger. We aren't perfect, hell, by any means, but my boyfriend and I are healthy; we support each other equally. We push each other just enough to be able to do the things we are afraid of or just avoid. We both believe in striving to be the best of ourselves, but we also believe in midnight pizza, and running away, and falling in love all over again every day.

I know my terrible ex hasn't forgotten me, and I won't forget him. However, I will want to. And I bet he wants to too. I'll be haunted forever, and I'll always hold a small grudge towards the fact he got away home-free from everything that happened to me. If it weren't for three amazing people, he would have led me to my death. My Mother, My Cousin, and My Boyfriend saved my life. I was so against all of it and I fought, but now I see how brainwashed I had been. Let your family help you. Be strong but don't push them away. The ones that truly love you can see what's happening to you; don't keep it a secret; they love you; they will do anything to fight for you and keep you save.

So you're gonna haunt me forever huh?

I hope you're haunted too.

I don't have to be perfect and wish you well.

I hope one day I'll be able to do all the things I used to like that you took away from me again: you took away my love of sunshine; you stole my love of poetry; you took away my big dreams and made me feel like I'd never succeed at anything; the reminder of all my insecurities; you nearly taught me that love did not exist, and I believed in that for so long; I thought that love was a curse, and you and I were caught up in some sort of Inferno fantasy. but now have finally learned that true and real love is a blessing. I almost lost my entire college career to your manipulative mind games. Almost. But, you got away before I could catch you. Once it was all over, the sparkle returned to my eyes, and I saw my future again.

Maybe I did love you; Maybe I didn't. Maybe I was madly in love with you; maybe you were madly in love with me; maybe we hated each other. Maybe I had the worst case of Stockholm Syndrome in the world; maybe I have no idea how I felt; I didn't know what love was. Perhaps I still do not know what love is. I will never know if you loved me or if I was just a pawn in your chess game. You always held onto your upper hand and made me feel small; you didn't like it when I fought back. Maybe the intent doesn't matter. After all, all that you remember about a person in the end, is how they made you feel, and you made me feel like less than human; you made me sad and scared, and abused, and shitty, and used.

However still, I really wish I knew what you were thinking. Hell I wish I knew the answer to all these questions, but some things will forever remain unanswered.

The future is unwritten.

I was barely 17.