Damaged Goods


I used to hate being single. With every fiber of my being. I was always looking for somebody to love me. Or, at the very least, pay attention to me for five seconds. Yes, I was that girl. In reality, I was super insecure about myself. Being single seemed to somehow plaster a huge sign on my forehead that said, "Damaged goods"

But let's be honest: I was damaged.

Two and a half years ago, I got my heart shattered. It isn't something that I talk about often, mostly because I am embarrassed that I was so pathetic. But what the hell, YOLO.

I met Anthony in January of 2011 on Plenty of Fish, an online dating website that I had recently joined. He was tall, handsome, and everything I really wanted in a guy. I say "guy", because Anthony was far from being a man. At 19 years old, he had never been in a relationship before and was a virgin. You read that correctly: virgin to everything. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

To this day, I remember our first kiss. I remember what I was wearing, what I was thinking, how I was feeling. I definitely thought that Anthony was out of my league. He was extremely good looking, sweet, in the Army, funny, tall, and from the South. It was like I had won the lottery. We had spent a quiet evening talking and playing vintage Super Mario Brothers when it started getting late. He had to work in the morning, so I walked him to the door. As he approached the door, he turned around and kissed me. It was mind-blowing. Seriously. It lasted about a minute or two, then he said goodnight and left. 

About five minutes later he texted me: Was the kiss any good?

I was still leaning against the door. My knees were weak; my palms were sweaty. Good? It was unbelievable. I instantly felt this connection with him. That spark that everybody tells you about. I felt that. That is when he told me that was his first time ever kissing a girl. 

I was the first girl he ever kissed.

I was the first girl he ever dated.

I was the first girl he ever made out with.

I was the first girl he ever had sex with.

Our relationship was all about firsts, and despite a few bumps in the road, I honestly thought that we had a good thing. He was basically living with me, and Oliver adored him...usually he wanted Anthony rather than me. We spent most of our time with each other, doing simple things like watching Netflix, having dance parties and late night conversations. It was pretty easy with us, something that I had never really experienced. We frequently Skyped with his parents who lived in South Carolina, and I fell in love with them. His family liked me and was excited to see that their son was actually dating somebody.

Obviously it didn't last. Little things happened that turned into big things, and he finally admitted that he had never really liked me. He thought that I was fat and unattractive. That I was not his type at all, and he was only dating me because I paid for everything and had sex with him.

At the time, I was honestly pretty cool about the whole thing. I blew it off, acted like it did not bother me. I was a strong, independent woman. Who cares what he thought? But as time began to pass, I realized just how much the breakup affected me and my outlook.

It is hard for me to trust guys now. I know, I know. I shouldn't let one bad experience define my future relationships, but it wasn't just one bad experience. My entire dating life has been one long bad experience. Every guy that came along, I thought, "He is going to be different". And every time I was disappointed when he turned out to be exactly like the rest.

And honestly, this leads to the worst part: it is hard for me to trust myself now. When you feel like you know somebody and what their capable of doing. Or when you have so much hope for the possibilities. It is devastating to have all of that crumble underneath you. It is debilitating to realize what you believed in so full-heartedly was a lie. A joke. You begin to wonder if you even know what you are doing.

Shortly after we broke up, I moved to Texas. It was my way of regrouping and finally getting to know who I am. I wanted to find myself again and discover new things. I wanted to embrace being alone and lonely, and I wanted to be okay with it. I wanted to be okay with who I am. I'm not saying that I am completely there yet, but I have come a long way from that girl who needs attention to make her feel worthy.

I am single. I have been single for two and a half years. It was a struggle at first, dealing with the loneliness. But after awhile, you forget what it feels like to be loved. To be held in the arms of somebody who cares about you. You stop missing the long talks, hand-in-hand walks, and stealing kisses. You don't remember what it is like to be in a relationship or feel vulnerable. And then the whole idea of starting all over with somebody new no longer sounds fun or exciting, it becomes scary. It becomes the unknown. 

It is so hard for me to see myself not being single. Whereas I used to be scared of ending up alone, now I worry that I won't. I am so out of practice, I don't even know how to be in a relationship. And let's face it....I am really scared.

I am scared of getting hurt.

I am scared of remembering what love feels like.

I am scared of having feeling for somebody.

I am scared of being used.

I am scared of somebody actually falling in love with me when I'm not in a good place.

I am scared of being damaged goods forever.

Photo: Etsy.com

1 comment :

  1. That guy was just an arse hole and will probably regret the was he treated you, it's his problem not yours, don't let him colour the way you think of people in the future. If they don't like you that's their problem, theirs plenty more fish in the sea, tell them that. ;)

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