Chapter 3
Before I knew it, it was October. We had been together for four and a half months already. Four and a half! It was the longest relationship I had ever been in! Granted, it was the only relationship I had ever been in. Anyways, it had been four whole months, and every single time I saw him, or he kissed me, I felt butterflies in my stomach. I thought for sure this had to be what love felt like. What else could it be?
We had been hanging out at his dormitory-- yea, he was still in university housing-- and I decided it was time to head back to my own apartment. It was just a couple of blocks away. He decided to walk me there since he wanted to go to the computer lab that was in the next building over and do some work. We were standing on the steps that led up to the building. We hugged, we kissed, said good night and all that. And he said he loved me. I was sure he had said it. My heart leaped and bounded and the next thing I knew, I was telling him I loved him.
Back in my room, my heart was still pounding with the excitement of professing my love, for him telling me he loved me. I couldn't get the smile off my face. It was, by far, the absolute best day of my life. How could anything compare to it?
The next time we parted, I told him I loved him again. It was like I couldn't wait to get it out again and again and again. I wanted to constantly remind him that I loved him, that I really, honestly loved him. There was a slight pause before he said it back. It was strange. A small hiccup, maybe. But everything seemed to be good, so I just let it slip. It wasn't that important. Maybe his heart was just pounding as hard as mine had been. We kissed, said good night, and parted. Again, I couldn't stop smiling. Being in love was the absolute best feeling in the whole world. Nothing could bring me down. Nothing. And nothing had certainly ever made me happier.
* * * * *
Things went on fairly well for the next few months. Classes were going good, relationship was great. Everything seemed to be wonderful. Expect for money. Money was an issue. It was like I had hit a wall and suddenly my life had been turned upside down. My father was refusing to sell any of his collectibles so I could have the money I needed for my tuition bills. My mother was doing literally everything she could to get me the money I needed. I already had a loan and a scholarship-- what else could I do? I went to financial aid, but at a big school like Haskel, it was super impersonal and cold. I ended up seeing some old guy in this cold office. I was sobbing. He looked uncomfortable. He got me some paperwork and got me out of his office as quickly as possible. At least he'd given me a tissue to cry into.
After a terrible meeting with financial aid, I figured it would be nice to see my boyfriend. I went to his dorm and we hung out and I cried and all that. We started to get hungry, as people tend to do, but I couldn't afford to get food with everyone else. I would have to manage with a small grocery trip later on, but that wouldn't help me now. I was starving. They were all getting Chinese, and I was, admittedly, a bit jealous. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was when my boyfriend pulled me to the side and, instead of offering to buy me food, he told me I needed to stand up for myself against my father. He told me that until I called him and told him that he had to sell his shit and help me pay for college, he wasn't going to help me pay for anything. That I should starve if I couldn't stand up for myself. I could hardly believe what I was hearing, but I nodded silently. There was no point in fighting-- he was probably right, anyways. While everyone was eating the Chinese food that had been delivered to the dorm, I sat in my boyfriend's room, on the floor, crying. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten at that point. My stomach was so empty. I attributed my tears to the hunger. I'd be fine. I wasn't going to call my father, though. Trying to tell him what to do from tn hours away via phone would have been like talking to a brick wall. And not a friendly one, at that. So I just let it go.
I was eating less, but I was managing. I did most of my shopping at the 7-Eleven on the corner. It certainly wasn't healthy, but it was better than nothing. I put the comments about food and money behind me, pretending to have forgotten it all entirely. He never mentioned it again.
It was just a couple days later when my boyfriend introduced me to a game called Dragon Age: Origins. He was doing some homework of the non-digital variety, which left his computer open for my use. So I played Dragon Age for the first time. It was spectacular. I had never experienced anything like it before, and I loved it. I was having a great time. I must have played for about an hour, or maybe two, when I turned around to say something to my boyfriend only to find him asleep. I glanced at the time and realized it had been much longer than two hours. It had been nearly twelve. I was flabbergasted. I had had no idea that a game could pull me so far out of the real world so completely to the point of losing track of time. But this one had, and it was one of the best feelings in the world. I stood up to stretch and realized all of a sudden that I had to pee. Really bad. I bolted from the room-- nearly locking myself out-- and ran to the toilet. When I came back, I went back to playing. This time, though, only for about another hour and a half before realizing that I was actually incredibly tired. So I crawled into the bed with my boyfriend, since I would have had to wake him up to do the whole sign-out procedure thing with the dorm, and mushed myself against the wall. He was in the top bunk-- which had no safety bar-- and there was no way I was sleeping on the outside.
Few weeks later, it was the end of January. Valentine's day was in just a couple of weeks, and I was super excited. It was going to be my first Valentine's day as a not-single person. Ever. For all intents and purposes, it was kind of like Christmas. I was at my apartment when I got a call from my boyfriend. Something was up-- he hadn't been feeling too great for the past couple of weeks, not really himself-- so I asked if he wanted to get dinner or something. We met up and went to one of our favorite pizza places just a couple blocks from his dorm. We ordered our pizza, and when it got to our table, he looked miserable. I asked him what was wrong and he just kind of dismissed it. Next thing I knew, he was leaving. He said he'd be back and not to worry. So I ate in silence, worrying.
When he came back, it looked like he had been crying. He said he no longer wanted his pizza, but said that we needed to talk. Looking back, I should have seen it coming, but I hadn't. I had been so blinded by my worry for him that I had been completely oblivious. He tossed his pizza in the trash-- a waste of good pizza.
We walked, side by side, down the street. He was talking about Batman. Explaining how Batman is really just this normal guy. I don't remember much of what he actually said-- just that it involved comparing himself to Batman. He explained that he was depressed, and that when he was depressed, he needed to get rid of the thing that was making him depressed. Apparently, that was me. Or, at least, he thought it was me. By the time we reached my apartment building, he was crying. I was stone-faced, not a single tear on my face or even threatening. He was breaking up with me. I told him that I understood, and that he came first. It was okay. He hugged me, I hugged him. He was sobbing. I let him walk back to his dorm as I made my way up to my apartment where I curled up on my bed and cried harder than I ever had before.
After a terrible meeting with financial aid, I figured it would be nice to see my boyfriend. I went to his dorm and we hung out and I cried and all that. We started to get hungry, as people tend to do, but I couldn't afford to get food with everyone else. I would have to manage with a small grocery trip later on, but that wouldn't help me now. I was starving. They were all getting Chinese, and I was, admittedly, a bit jealous. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was when my boyfriend pulled me to the side and, instead of offering to buy me food, he told me I needed to stand up for myself against my father. He told me that until I called him and told him that he had to sell his shit and help me pay for college, he wasn't going to help me pay for anything. That I should starve if I couldn't stand up for myself. I could hardly believe what I was hearing, but I nodded silently. There was no point in fighting-- he was probably right, anyways. While everyone was eating the Chinese food that had been delivered to the dorm, I sat in my boyfriend's room, on the floor, crying. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten at that point. My stomach was so empty. I attributed my tears to the hunger. I'd be fine. I wasn't going to call my father, though. Trying to tell him what to do from tn hours away via phone would have been like talking to a brick wall. And not a friendly one, at that. So I just let it go.
I was eating less, but I was managing. I did most of my shopping at the 7-Eleven on the corner. It certainly wasn't healthy, but it was better than nothing. I put the comments about food and money behind me, pretending to have forgotten it all entirely. He never mentioned it again.
It was just a couple days later when my boyfriend introduced me to a game called Dragon Age: Origins. He was doing some homework of the non-digital variety, which left his computer open for my use. So I played Dragon Age for the first time. It was spectacular. I had never experienced anything like it before, and I loved it. I was having a great time. I must have played for about an hour, or maybe two, when I turned around to say something to my boyfriend only to find him asleep. I glanced at the time and realized it had been much longer than two hours. It had been nearly twelve. I was flabbergasted. I had had no idea that a game could pull me so far out of the real world so completely to the point of losing track of time. But this one had, and it was one of the best feelings in the world. I stood up to stretch and realized all of a sudden that I had to pee. Really bad. I bolted from the room-- nearly locking myself out-- and ran to the toilet. When I came back, I went back to playing. This time, though, only for about another hour and a half before realizing that I was actually incredibly tired. So I crawled into the bed with my boyfriend, since I would have had to wake him up to do the whole sign-out procedure thing with the dorm, and mushed myself against the wall. He was in the top bunk-- which had no safety bar-- and there was no way I was sleeping on the outside.
Few weeks later, it was the end of January. Valentine's day was in just a couple of weeks, and I was super excited. It was going to be my first Valentine's day as a not-single person. Ever. For all intents and purposes, it was kind of like Christmas. I was at my apartment when I got a call from my boyfriend. Something was up-- he hadn't been feeling too great for the past couple of weeks, not really himself-- so I asked if he wanted to get dinner or something. We met up and went to one of our favorite pizza places just a couple blocks from his dorm. We ordered our pizza, and when it got to our table, he looked miserable. I asked him what was wrong and he just kind of dismissed it. Next thing I knew, he was leaving. He said he'd be back and not to worry. So I ate in silence, worrying.
When he came back, it looked like he had been crying. He said he no longer wanted his pizza, but said that we needed to talk. Looking back, I should have seen it coming, but I hadn't. I had been so blinded by my worry for him that I had been completely oblivious. He tossed his pizza in the trash-- a waste of good pizza.
We walked, side by side, down the street. He was talking about Batman. Explaining how Batman is really just this normal guy. I don't remember much of what he actually said-- just that it involved comparing himself to Batman. He explained that he was depressed, and that when he was depressed, he needed to get rid of the thing that was making him depressed. Apparently, that was me. Or, at least, he thought it was me. By the time we reached my apartment building, he was crying. I was stone-faced, not a single tear on my face or even threatening. He was breaking up with me. I told him that I understood, and that he came first. It was okay. He hugged me, I hugged him. He was sobbing. I let him walk back to his dorm as I made my way up to my apartment where I curled up on my bed and cried harder than I ever had before.
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