Three months is what it took for Vanessa to grow tired of me, at any given point she'd grow annoyed of me no longer talking to me from a place of joy or love rather as if she felt obligated to do so. Morning lunches were out of the question, affection irritated her. Rationalized thought had been smeared by months of being in a honeymoon phase which made me believe giving love and support would suffice just as it had for me. Only years later when I reflected on this chapter of my life did I come to see that Vanessa wasn't looking for lifelong love. It was all rather confusion, attraction, a fling taken too serious. Vanessa was simply confused just as much as I was, as for the reason as her being so rude, it was to cut ties from the responsibility she had taken on. It was regret, a change of mind, what had seemed right turned out to be wrong. She should have regarded my feelings maybe then I would have had a faster recovery if she had let me off easy. I could have done without the weeks of being ignored, the aggressive nature, or the stressful nights. At any other point in my life I would've taken the hint, but the concern that everyone I ever know leaving loomed over me. The finishing blow was having your love not be good enough for someone you once loved so dearly. The newfound hatred towards me all started sometime after our first month together. We'd make plans and she'd cancel at the last minute. "Hey Vanessa are you ready?" I asked, "No! I'm not going!", "What's wrong? You can talk to me, it's okay we can talk about anything." I'd say. Her response would be, "Nothing. I just like to be alone sometimes. I'm sorry.". My mistake was taking her word over my own intuition, but I loved her and a part of that was having trust that she meant it. So I had faith that we'd be alright. More importantly I had faith we'd be together at the end of this period of our lives. Finally we set a date, starting off early in the morning I took my meds and scurried off to pick up breakfast. I took out my secret stash of candies. I knocked on Vanessa's door, she opened I sat on her bed and waited for her to get ready. "Sorry, I woke up late."she said, I smiled at her being happy just to get some alone time with her "Its okay, you look beautiful.". We made way back to my room, once inside it was nothing but love. Laughter filled the air, time passed every word was vibrant bringing to life our conversations about the future while we dove into our pasts. There was nothing particularly wrong with Vanessa aside from strict parents, nonetheless it didn't erase how she felt. As daylight began to fade we knew our date was coming to an end. We played the movie, it was about a scientist searching for some cure of zombie like monsters. I layed next her placing my arm over her stomach. My head on her shoulder, we'd kiss every now and then switching positions to hold one another. Halfway through she had fell asleep. I woke her up, to my surprise her interest was in doing something else. A kiss with light grabbing started it off, by the credits we were naked. Her moans were soft while my mouth went to work, it was my first time. Longevity soaked every brim of my spirit. We both slept peacefully that night. For some reason ever since then she increased her distance, something about us having sex seemed like nothing more than a mistake to her. Growing annoyed more than ever, without words I could tell what she wanted to say was I had sex with you what else do you want? Are you happy? Throughout all this Dr. Kristen consoled my decisions, handing me advice on how to proceed. Dr. Kristen had taken notice on my changed attitude though whenever we chatted about me potentially leaving, Dr. Kristen insisted to stay a while longer just to assure I had fully recuperated. I wanted to leave without leaving Vanessa. So I listened, I listened and continued my treatment until the end of all of this. Mental health is like a sprain that you should put a cast on, so if you run too early you're bound to collapse. There are a dozen things I would have changed but to this day it's unclear whether staying there for so long was the right choice. We moved too fast, clung too hard, and I hoped for far too much. Some days I sit and wonder of what could have been had I simply said one more thing, changed a decision, or perhaps done less. Hmm, yet if it weren't for everything that followed I wouldn't be here the thought makes me chuckle rather morbidly because some nights I can't sleep, for the thoughts of wanting to die haunt me. Yes I often wonder of what could have been… Four days including today, my birthday would be tomorrow. My room was beige that's all I remember of it. My attitude bitter, my head dead weight. Discussions were short, except for the ones with myself. If only I were stronger, if I could hold in my broken heart. Now my baggage has me regretting all thats been done. I can't get past this.