Anyone who has experienced real true heartbreak knows the feeling. It is the moment when you're whole world collides. Everything you dreamed and hoped for crashes down around you like a tree that has been sawed out of existence. A tree that is now crashing down ontop of you, with just mere moments to rush out of it's way. It's the moment your fantasies go up in flames, a piece of paper to a lighter. At the moment it happens, even with the proof right in front of you, your brain tries to grasp at straws, tries to hold onto the possibility, the hopes that it isn't true, what is happening isn't the case. A feeling than rushes over you, blood drains from your face, a queasy feeling settles in your stomach than rapidly spreads to your head, washing down to your toes before once more selling back in thepit of your being.
My best friend watches my face for a reaction, any kind of feeling, but I don't know how to react, what to say to what I have just heard. "Is.. is it true?" I looked at Charlie questioningly and she nods.
"Yeah, I am sorry I myself saw him go out back into the tent behind Mathew's house with her. Katlyn was all over him all night prior to that to. I also heard him admit it to Matthew!" the night before I had text Christopher my boyfriend of 2 and 1/2 years, over and over again with no response, I had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, I knew they had been smoking marijuana and drinking, while I was at work. Most of the people they had been doing it with were friends of mine too, I had trusted my friends at least. It had only been my 6 of them, Katlyn, Matthew, Christopher, Brittany, John and Charlie. I had never thought with my best friend Charlie there that it was even possible. Yet here she was verifying what Matt had said, and here they all were looking at me regretfully, all still present the next morning accept for Christopher and Katlyn, who were supposedly now walking to the Roxbury motel to meet up with another one of our friends, who has thrown a small exclusive party there the night before.
"Are you okay?" Charlie asked once more and I took a deep breath.
"Fuck him, I don't fucking need him," I wasn't going to let any of them see me cry, I didn't exactly know if I wanted to cry, my emotions were in such turmoil, I did what any "emotionally intellectual" adult might do and let all my emotions turn into uncontrollable rage. Picking up my phone I dialed his number and he didn't pick up, so I called him again and than a third time and he answered.
Before he could say a fucking word I said, "You are q fucking little piece of shit, Charlie told me what you did. You cheated on me. We are over, done," I could hear a soft intake of breath on the other end of the line.
"What do you mean? No I didn't, she is lying, she never really wanted us together."
"Your a fucking liar Matthew verified her story," I could see Mathew's eyes go wide as I said this and he shook his head, as of to say 'no don't involve me,' "Fuck you we are over. Your loss not mine!"
"Whatever you little bitch, believe whatever you want, just give me back my stuff."
"No I don't think I will actually," I hung up the phone and blocked all calls from him. Within minutes I had recieved 6 texts demanding his stuff back, his hoodie and shirts, his military academy sweatpants. Fuck you, is all I replied.
"Will I see you guys later for the car meet?" I asked my 4 stunned friends who had no clue what to say. They all quickly started nodding their heads in agreement.
My vision seemed far off as I walked around the side of Mathew's house, trying desperately not to look at the tent he had up in his backyard. Images of Christopher sleeping with Kaitlyn flooded my mind. I could see the ugly bitches skinny, ugly body pressed against him naked, her nonexistent ass attempting to bounce as he fucked her, her goat like face pulled into a look of pleasure. She didn't measure up to me, did she, I had always been hard on myself never really thought myself to be beautiful, and yet: 'Was I that ugly?' So ugly that he would choose to fuck a girl who had known our friends through Matthew for only a month and yet slept with half of our friends already? He cheated on me with this girl that had no personality passed partying and fucking, maybe though it was me, maybe I didn't let loose enough, had to many goals and dream, maybe I was too complex for a man to love. He was supposed to be mine, he was supposed to be only mine. We met when I had just turned 16, right after he had lost his scholarship to a military academy he had attended on a scholarship since 6th grade. Christopher had been so easy to talk to, so easy to laugh with, my best friend. Soon he slept over my house now than half of the week, we never left eacother side. I got kicked out of my house a week after highschool graduation over a fight I had gotten into with my mom over Christopher. When I had been kicked out and forced to move into my grandmother's living room in her one bedroom condominium, Christopher had been so upset he had stayed out with one of our best friend's Manny's sister's house and my friend Patrick and his beautiful girlfriend Emma had been forced to help me move.
My chest felt tight and it was hard to swallow, backing out of Mathew's driveway, instead of turning right towards my grandmother's, I went left. I didn't realize what I was doing until I pulled into the parking lot in front of lake hopatcong beach, a block away from Matthew's. My insides screamed, I felt like I was going to puke, I felt like I couldn't breath, a few people played volleyball in the court behind me, but otherwise the beach was empty. My windows were down and I could hear the sound of the water lapping on the docks, the birds chirping, everything sounded the same as always. The same as it sounded when I was 7 years old and at this beach for the first time.
He was supposed to love me, no one loves me, the first tear flowed down my cheek, as if a cup finally filled and overflowing, a unseen force took control of my body and tears traced patterns down my face. A scream that never came was caught in the back of my throat, how could he be so okay with leaving this relationship that meant so much to me, so okay with leaving me behind, he was no different than anyone else in my life. Everyone leaves it can only be my fault, wait, no that wasn't right there was something wrong with him not me. My whole body shook, the windows open, the AC cooling the world I put my head down on the steering wheel, my hands gripping either side of the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. Every cry was silent and I had difficulties breathing in-between them. I knew we weren't perfect, by far we had never had a great relationship, and yet I had never pictured a life with anyone else, he was my first love, not my first boyfriend, but the first and only person I had ever been in-love with.
I don't know how long I stayed in that parkinglot but the tears ran out, self pitty the last feeling left as I started out the window at the reflection of the sun on the water. Thirteen missed calls from our friends Manuel told me Christopher was with him. Twenty text messages, a kabobbled mess of fuck you's and I'm so sorry, I love you, don't believe them, had come through on my phone.
Taking one final look at the lake I reversed my car and drive back to my grandmother's, the longest 4 minutes drive I have ever taken. I can't express the relief I felt at my grandmother's car missing from the parkinglot. At noon on June 29th I went into my grandmother's porch with a large bong in my hand and smoked bowel pack after bowel pack of marijuana, till my thoughts were so far gone all that I felt was tired and hungry. My black Labrador mix was only a reminder of Christopher, as she licked and nudged my leg during with me on that tiny deck overlooking the condominiums small shared yard. We had bottle fed my rescue together, and I couldn't look at her even as I pet her without thinking about him sleeping over 2 years ago and waking every two hours to help me feed her that summer. I used to think of it as practice for our future children. I could remember you laying on my bed at 16, no stubble yet formed on your smooth face, short cropped black hair, strong jaw, large lips under a strong Italian nose curved in a grin as you gazed down on the small puppy in your arms. Her eyes were still closed at 3 days and she made snorting sighs as she drank, you laughed and the bottle fell from her mouth, she wiggled her face back and forth over the bottle nipple, mouth wide as she tried to regain control of it. Now here she was 2 years later and no longer the small little ball of fur we bottle fed. I hated him for that memory, for all of them, I wanted him to be no more than an object of hate, I didn't want to think of the way it felt to be held by him, the way how lips felt on mine, the hitch in breathe as he gazed upon me naked, the look of lust in his eyes. Laying down in bed, silent tears restarting down my cheek I forced my eyes closed and passed out Micah our dog pressed to my back hardly acknowledged, heartbroken and shattered.