Since most of my hardships are related to feeling isolated and hurt, I suppose I should begin with the first person I fell for when I moved into the big city but I could never bring myself to truthfully love, which is what he deserved and thus why it had to come to an end. However, unlike most of what will follow, I was honestly the only person to blame in relation to Sam’s broken heart. It sounds pompous to claim that I hurt him that much but I know that I did, and it is far from my proudest moment. Still, let’s begin at the start of this particular segment of my story.
Sam was an interesting kind of person. Older than myself by a few years but rather immature for his age, I can’t say that I found it wholly adorable or even barely but I acknowledged his faults and accepted them. Most would do this for love yet I did it for an entirely different reason and one that is almost unforgivable. I was lonely and bored, the latter more so than anything. I was twenty one years old at the time, but I was mature for my age and promiscuous, disgustingly so but we do these things when we first get into a world that isn’t as secluded as the small country villages that we came from. Strangely, despite leaving home I was still living with my mother, Maria, but she was in a new relationship herself and spent a lot of her time attempting to balance this life with her mothering of myself and my brother, Dylan. She tried her best but, being someone so incredibly needy, I quickly felt alone and isolated from everyone I had known. I met Sam online. He messaged me and like anyone who can be slightly narcissistic, I was happy to receive any compliments that I was given. Bi-lingual and well-traveled, he was someone who intrigued me initially and I did not set out with the intention of hurting him as much or as frequently as I did.
Indeed, our relationship began as honourably as any with a first date. Coffee. It’s the universal pastime, or so it would seem given how many of my dates have involved in the drink.
I was far from the best as boyfriends go but I did genuinely care for him as a person even if it didn’t develop into love in that sense. He’s someone that I still care about, as a friend. Sam was the type of boy that anyone could wish for. He was kind, caring and attentive. However, he could also be smothering in all of these attributes and I felt under tremendous pressure to establish myself when I was with him. At the time I had fallen into a journalism course. My exams had not gone well and I felt I had no other choice but to join my friend Greta, from back home, in attending classes at a local technical college. I was unhappy in my course and working part time in a small convenience store with little prospects. As well intentioned as Sam’s attentiveness was, I found myself easily irritable. It wasn’t long after I had met his father, who had been absent for a substantial portion of his life and was attempting to make major amends, that things almost came to a head. He took me to a sports game and it was one of the better dates I’ve had thus far but it wasn’t enough to save what was falling apart.
I would end the relationship shortly after this. For the first time at least.
The journalism course didn’t last very long. Greta dropped out. I hated short hand so much that I quickly followed, although it was inevitable given that I had played truant for the majority of my time as an enrolled student. Is it any wonder I never make progress? I’m almost the most self destructive person that I know. I was still living with my mom when my resolve broke and I got back into my relationship with Sam. However, by this point we were living with her partner, Tony and his young son, Jacob. Jacob has Downs Syndrome. Despite not falling in love with him, I did feel comfortable with Sam and my family, new and old, loved him. I brought him home to meet my grandmother, aunt and oldest cousins, who are like sisters to me, and he would be very present in my life. There were times he would simply come over and help me mind Jacob when the parentals were out on the town for a night of stress relief. Realistically when I look back, it’s almost as if he moved in.
Yet, I needed someone who was more emotionally mature. It all came down to one incident, horrible as it may seem, when I realised that there was nothing about the relationship that made me want to stay there. It came after I had started a second part time job, a nightclub, and it was a high pressure position given how my specific supervisor was a complete douche with a messiah complex. The less said on him, the better. Still, I was doing my best to work too jobs and spend time with Sam. It was all honky dory, more or less, until he got sick. It was a migraine and I sound harsh for how I feel on the subject but there was no need for the dramatics that followed. He was a lovely man but he was a cry baby to the extreme. His head may have hurt but it required two days of bed rest and me skipping one of my shifts to get him over it. It was too much and I was too young to sign up for it. I also realised that he needed someone who loved him and if I continued onwards for my own selfishness, which was receiving little enjoyment anyway, I was only hurting his chances of meeting that person. I waited for him to recover and then we had a very serious, amicable, talk.
It had been eight months of a relationship by the time I finally called it quits once and for all.
I’m happy knowing that Sam is happy with his life. He has a job, a home and a boy to share it all with and that’s something that really means a lot to me looking back. He deserves to be happy.