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.