Photo via: cassoday harder
It sometimes feels like you are not allowed to be happy, not if you did something wrong along the way. Like you have to be punished for whatever mistake you made. Which is troublesome if you don’t consider what you did a mistake. It may have been bad, yes. But if you were to call it a mistake it would mean you regret it. You may regret how it happened, but not that it did.
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I have had the same part time job for the past four summers, sometimes even on shorter holidays around Easter and such. It’s not that it’s especially fun but it’s welcoming. My boss and my co-workers have been the same for all years and they’ve seen me grow from an alternative fourteen year old to my now 18 year old self.
Last year when I returned in the beginning of summer after school ending, I noticed I got a new co-worker. We were quickly introduced to each other since I was supposed to help him out. He was a few years older than me but the closest one in age. We were and are still a bit surprised over how quickly we became good friends. We clicked immediately and there was nothing I couldn’t talk to him about and he was very open to me as well. Even though we spent eight hours a day together at work, we kept talking afterwards by texting.
He had begun working a couple of weeks before me and therefore quit before me too. When summer was over and it was time for me to go back to my school, he moved away to another city to study at the university. We drifted apart due to the lack of time and distance. Still talked once in a while but not nearly as much or often as we used to and I started to see our friendship like a ”summer romance”, but you know, more like friends.
So, when he after four months of complete silence wrote to me, I got surprised. He lead off with a work-related picture we’ve laughed at a billion times and I thought it was nice to talk to him again but that we, as previously had, would drift after a week or so.
We didn’t, we haven’t. We talked, talk, constantly. Texts led to phone conversations and Skype. It seemed like we never ran out of things to say to each other.
I had found him interesting the first summer, and it was easy awoken when we began talking again. My problem was that I had a boyfriend. A boyfriend I, at the time, had been with for about one and a half year. Our relationship is a totally different story but the last six months in our relationship I wasn’t happy, and the last three I was miserable. He hurt me multiple times and betrayed my trust. It doesn’t justify what I did but it’s a part of why I did what I did.
So after talking constantly for about three weeks I went to see him. My closest friends says now, they knew what was going to happen and maybe I did too. But at the moment I just knew I really wanted to see him, that I have boyfriend and that I had promised myself many years before that I would never be a person who cheats. It’s not weird for me to hang out with other guys, so it wasn’t weird for me going there.
In hindsight, I can tell that I fell in love with him instantly. He was waiting for me to get off the train and I got a hug right away. And after hanging out with him for maybe just an hour or two I felt more appreciated than I ever had in my other relationship. I knew this guy liked me. He hadn’t said it yet but I noticed - and later during the evening he gave me a kiss on the cheek.
Since he lived a few hours away I stayed the night, and while watching a movie we began kissing. We both knew we were wrong but we couldn’t stop. The next day when it was time for me to go home, I began missing him as soon as I got on the train.
I knew what I had to do. When I wrote to my boyfriend he sensed something was up and wanted me to tell him right away and not wait until we could see each other. He wasn’t mad, he was heartbroken. And when I finally saw him my own sort-of mended heart broke once again. I knew I did something wrong. He wanted to ignore what had happened and keep on going, but I knew it wasn’t right. This guy was the sweetest, but he had broken my soul many months before and I couldn’t live with him like that anymore.
Now it sort of feels like I’m supposed to be guilty, ashamed and sad without love for a somewhat time to be punished for what I did. It feels like some people do not think I deserve this ”new” guy. Not yet. I know everything went by fast, but it worked for me and now I am happy, that should be all that counts. But I noticed that people aren’t as happy for me now just because I ended things badly with my boyfriend and moved on. It saddens me that some people judge relationships based on time, but I’m not holding back. I found the right guy for me. I don’t know if we will last forever, but I do hope so. I love him, he loves me and I want to be able to tell the world without people shooting me down without even knowing the whole story.
