10-29-2012, 12:02 AM
I've only been in one real relationship. It started when I was 17 and ended when I was 19 (I'm 22 now, will be 23 in January). He cheated on me, and I don't think I'd ever recovered from it.
I've always been a loner, and somewhat of a recluse, but since I broke up with him, my emotional health kind of spiraled out of control. I had a nervous breakdown 6 months post break-up, and currently, I'd say I'm practically agoraphobic.
The few times I've tried to initiate relationships, fear had always gotten the best of me, and they'd end up not going anywhere on my behalf.
The last time I got bitten by some actual potential was November of last year. I went to his house for Thanksgiving, and his family was awesome and inviting. It was great! We had so much in common, even though he was 19 (I usually never date younger than me). He was easy to talk to, and we had amazing chemistry. He even understood my humor to the T, and would fed off each other, and would laugh constantly. It's like our minds were in sync. I'd say we were even too much alike in many respects.
Anyways, he had a problem with blues. Drug-addiction is always a deal breaker for me, but I didn't find out until I'd already liked him. He said he was in recovery, so I took a chance. At that time in my life I was in need of someone to be there for me, to be "the man" perse'. It turned me off because he was dealing with his addiction, and that was too much drama for me to deal with.
Long story short, after he kept berating me to accept his pursuit to be my boyfriend, I finally turned him down after beating around the bush for so long, and told him I just wanted to be friends, but he wouldn't accept anything less than a relationship. That lead to this big ole fight, and some hurtful words were thrown below the belt my way, so I retaliated and hung up the phone.
I guess that gave him an excuse to relapse... About a week later I to called him back, and we mended the verbal damage done, although, it bothered me that he was using again. The next day or so, I called him again (He was high). I told him that if he wanted anything to do with me that he'd have to recommit to sobriety, and he agreed, as long as he could finish the remainder of his stash, and I reluctantly said ok. We literally spoke that entire night, as we rekindled what was lost, and he even accepted my friendship.
That was the last time I spoke to him. His mother called me 5 hours later to ask what had happened, and I didn't know what she was talking about. So happened to be that I was the last person on his caller ID, so she'd figured to find out what might had conspired up until his OD. He'd drowned on his vomit and was on life support, in a coma, for over the next two weeks, until 5 days before my birthday (that last night we spoke he made plans to celebrate with me). He died... and I was the last person to speak to him. Essentially, I heard his last words.
I didn't go to his funeral (never been to one), although I did write something on the commentary section of his funeral notice online.
Not a great start to my year, and it traumatized me greatly. I barely leave my home, and I've been struggling with alcohol.
Even though it's gotten easier, I don't know how to move on, and stick with a pursued new relationship without fear getting in the way... Help?
I've always been a loner, and somewhat of a recluse, but since I broke up with him, my emotional health kind of spiraled out of control. I had a nervous breakdown 6 months post break-up, and currently, I'd say I'm practically agoraphobic.
The few times I've tried to initiate relationships, fear had always gotten the best of me, and they'd end up not going anywhere on my behalf.
The last time I got bitten by some actual potential was November of last year. I went to his house for Thanksgiving, and his family was awesome and inviting. It was great! We had so much in common, even though he was 19 (I usually never date younger than me). He was easy to talk to, and we had amazing chemistry. He even understood my humor to the T, and would fed off each other, and would laugh constantly. It's like our minds were in sync. I'd say we were even too much alike in many respects.
Anyways, he had a problem with blues. Drug-addiction is always a deal breaker for me, but I didn't find out until I'd already liked him. He said he was in recovery, so I took a chance. At that time in my life I was in need of someone to be there for me, to be "the man" perse'. It turned me off because he was dealing with his addiction, and that was too much drama for me to deal with.
Long story short, after he kept berating me to accept his pursuit to be my boyfriend, I finally turned him down after beating around the bush for so long, and told him I just wanted to be friends, but he wouldn't accept anything less than a relationship. That lead to this big ole fight, and some hurtful words were thrown below the belt my way, so I retaliated and hung up the phone.
I guess that gave him an excuse to relapse... About a week later I to called him back, and we mended the verbal damage done, although, it bothered me that he was using again. The next day or so, I called him again (He was high). I told him that if he wanted anything to do with me that he'd have to recommit to sobriety, and he agreed, as long as he could finish the remainder of his stash, and I reluctantly said ok. We literally spoke that entire night, as we rekindled what was lost, and he even accepted my friendship.
That was the last time I spoke to him. His mother called me 5 hours later to ask what had happened, and I didn't know what she was talking about. So happened to be that I was the last person on his caller ID, so she'd figured to find out what might had conspired up until his OD. He'd drowned on his vomit and was on life support, in a coma, for over the next two weeks, until 5 days before my birthday (that last night we spoke he made plans to celebrate with me). He died... and I was the last person to speak to him. Essentially, I heard his last words.
I didn't go to his funeral (never been to one), although I did write something on the commentary section of his funeral notice online.
Not a great start to my year, and it traumatized me greatly. I barely leave my home, and I've been struggling with alcohol.
Even though it's gotten easier, I don't know how to move on, and stick with a pursued new relationship without fear getting in the way... Help?
![[-]](https://gayspeak.com/images/duende_v3_local/collapse.png)
