Hell’s angels.

Remember when I said I resulted to acting single in real life and on social media? Its finally about to bite me in the ass.

My “at home boyfriend” literally would not let me break up with him. I’m not sure if he has an untreated mental illness, or if I just brought out the crazy in him? Obviously, my dumb ass didn’t know what love was. But I knew what he and I had was in fact not love. Its like we was okay with treating each other like shit… that’s the confusing part about these kind of relationships, isn’t it? They criticize you, belittle you. Then they make you look bat shit crazy when you finally reach your breaking point.

I see it all the time. Couples being so mean to each other, but are too scared to go their separate ways.

He was my best friend for years. We knew each other’s darkest secrets, weaknesses, strengths, dreams and fears. I almost think if we never dated, we would still be friends. And that word is why I personally think people are so scared to break up… friends. Even though the relationship is SHIT, deep down you’re best friends. You get comfortable with this person. You know this person, and they know you. Your significant other becomes your life. Not only are you losing a significant other, you’re losing a friend. That’s the part that hurt my heart with this break up.

I would come home about every other weekend to see my parents… and to go see my at home boyfriend. It was just emptiness.

Here comes the heart break…

Christmas break is finally here. I get everything packed in my car, and call the at home boyfriend to let him know he can just meet me at my parent’s house when I get back. “Don’t freak out Alicia, but would you mind stopping by here first?”

I knew this time would come. I had been very public about my self-proclaimed singleness on social media. Some one back home finally spilled the beans to him.

I thought I would be jumping with joy when he found out.

Nope.

I really don’t think I’ve ever cried so much. But why? I was miserable with him.

I reluctantly walk into his house. First thing I saw? A box of my accumulated shit. He’s calm as can be. I knew this guy inside and out and calm was NOT in his vocabulary. My next thought? This must be the calm before the storm.

Nope.

He told me I needed happiness and sent me on my way.

That was it.

I was a wreck. I couldn’t handle this. If you remember correctly, I didn’t really have friends back home… I had two friends to be exact, lets call them C & J. Besides my parents, I am now alone.

I believe that’s why I was mess. That relationship tricked me into thinking he was in fact all I needed. It made me think that I didn’t need friends.

I love you and I hate you.

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Straight to the point.

Like I said, I’m going to outline my experiences with each entry. I guess I can start by touching base with my high school experience up to my first few months of college.

High school just kind of fucking for me. The one thing I would change if I could go back… never, ever have a boyfriend. The shithead I dated for four years legitimately made me miserable. Hence why I moved two hours away for college. I moved and we were still dating. Meeting new people, experiencing new things made me realize there is so much more than my small town and wacked out boyfriend.

First weekend at college… I had my sights set on Mr. Tall, Country and Handsome. Literally, everything about him made me 100% attracted to him. I’m not sure if feelings were mutual, or if I was just a good lay, either way I thought we were in love. It didn’t take us long to make our way to his shitty dorm room. That same night, he asked if we could work our way to being exclusive… and my next words are my next biggest regret, “I have someone back home.” You would think my regret would be cheating on my boyfriend? Hell no.

My someone back home threatened to kill my parents and come for me next when I tried to break up with him. So what did I do? I acted single, in both real life and social media. That is eventually how I broke free from him.

Back on track… I turned down an exclusive relationship with what I though was my soul mate, but we continued our fwb fling. That kind of relationship with him really fucked with my head.

My room mate, who was a closet dork like myself, got invited to our first college party during our second weekend of college. I WAS NERVOUS. I didn’t want the stigma of being the lame, sober freshman that stood in the corner during the party. So what did I do? I befriended the college’s #1 scholar who was also addicted to partying. At the time, I thought this was gold. Up to four times a week we would party at his house. I seriously thought it was so awesome to finally be the girl that was always at the party. When in reality I was doing much harm to myself.

That’s when alcohol took its grip on me and created a monster. Any kind of emotion was dealt with a cheap handle of Wave vodka. I got into a routine, go party… come back to my soul mate’s/fwb shitty dorm room. Wake up in love, quickly to realize what we had going on was far from love. I almost regret relying on liquor… ALMOST. When I was drunk I was confident. It gave me confidence to spit out my true feelings. I would confess my love for him after every party. Some nights we would talk about our future together, but he never asked me to be his again. That one chance I had, I ruined. I thought this total loss was my fault. He tricked me. He made me look like an idiot, every one seen it except for me.¬†Soon enough, I learned he had me under some sort of spell.

I hated being alone. I hated being surrounded by happy couples, doing cliche, happy couple bullshit. When in reality I was jealous of that bullshit. My roommate’s boyfriend (who was also my best friend) lived with us, for fucks sake. I was literally surrounded by romance. That’s what I longed for. At this time, I was so mad at myself. I had happiness in my hands and let it slip away. I looked for in other guys, but it never worked out. No one took me seriously. They knew what was going on in my head.

This was my routine up until Christmas break… Waiting for me was a my biggest heart break, and every one cutting straight to the point with me… finally.

Give it a go.

My first attempt at blogging, so give me some slack here. I guess I could start this thing off with introducing myself… I am a 23 year old mother, to an extremely feisty two and half year old. You would think a life of a 23 young adult, in a kind entertaining town would be rather, thrilling? Well, if that is what you’re expecting from this blog, then move on.

Still here? Great. I said I would introduce myself, and I did. There’s really not too much more of my life than my kid, Leo. I work, sleep, watch cheesy movies with my boyfriend and most excitingly clean shit diapers.

Besides keeping my home clean, mouths fed and bills paid… I work at a dental lab. After I graduated high school, I moved to the outskirts of Atlanta to attend a rather small private, Methodist university. I am by no means an outstanding scholar… or religious. I didn’t really have academics on my mind during my first year of college. I simply moved to get away from the city I lived in and to escape shitty relationships.

Unfortunately, I found sinful temptations. You see, in high school I didn’t really have friends and didn’t attend any kind of social activities. All I had was a very controlling boyfriend. Well, with college my inner social butterfly finally got to fly free… and my inner alcoholic.

It probably seems odd how quickly I go from alcoholic to Mommy with a career. My goal is to outline my experiences of young adulthood with each attempted blog entry. Ultimately, I decided to start writing to not only represent The Mommas Who, but to show that you and I are not alone. It may take a few entries, but it all builds up to my motherhood. Eventually you will understand me, The Mom Who… who finally decided to give it a go.