My saddest song.

In 1998, when I was 17- I fell in love with a boy named Chris who played the piano for me. He was dating my best friend at the time. On a night filled with tales of heroism and Little Debbie snack cakes, I made him kiss me.

Time passed.

In 2003, after Chris and I had been seeing each other for 2 months, my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer. 2 months later, on the day after my birthday, dad came home from the hospital. He had portions of his brain removed to stop the tumors in his head from hemorrhaging. He was never the same again.

2 months later I got on a greyhound to Bloomington, Illinois. I lived there for two years with my ex Jason, after high school. While I was there I slept with Jason. Dad died in October of 2003.

Chris forgave me. Sort of- he turned to another woman to help him deal with this betrayal. Time passed- good times and bad- and in the fall of 2005, Chris had to move from Duluth to the city for work.

He broke it off because now was the time for his career and he couldn’t handle a long distance relationship at this point in his life. That- and because he had already fallen in love with a girl he met on okcupid from Winnipeg.

Time passed- and we missed each other. We decided to give it another go but I was afraid of being second best forever. I was angry and bitter and hurt. There was a girl- a casual friend of his. She fit into his new world better than me. Her name was Jessie and Chris had had a crush on her for years. I trusted him but deep down I was afraid he didn’t really love me.

In April of 2006- a week before my birthday, I went to see our mutual friend Bobby. He had just come back from visiting Chris. I told him about Jessie. He knew. I told Bobby I was going to talk to Chris when he came up for my birthday. He couldn’t quite meet my eyes when he agreed that was probably a good idea.

My Birthday was on a Thursday. Chris came up on Saturday. Bobby was in a fatal car accident on Friday. When I told Chris I didn’t think things were good and I thought we should take a break he said yes. He started sleeping with Jessie on Sunday.

That summer, Chris drove up north to tell me he finally knew what I had been talking about all those years- love. He said- loving her as completely as he did, made him come to a realization. He was afraid he never really did love me.

Remember that phone call that one night? That was me. That night I called everyone in the world to stop myself from doing something stupid.

When she left him I read blog upon blog about his pain. Pain caused by losing the relationship he had wanted for the last 5 years. I tried not to let it bother me.

In September of 2006 I had a decision to make. I had made plans to move to Minneapolis to be closer to Chris. I had already given my notice at work, found a new job in the city. I had a lease in Loring Park and nowhere to go in Duluth. So I came.

And when I arrived, he was there. And he worked so hard to win his way back in my heart. And somehow, despite everything- with no one on our side- we soared. He was completely amazing and I was happier than I had ever been in my life. We got past all the bad stuff. We forgave each other finally.

Time passed.

Then there were 2 concerts. At Chris’s concert, he decided he was going to ask me to marry him. At mine, my friend Alex asked if he and his band could spend the night at my place. They did- and that night I kissed Alex. It was not a sweet and innocent kiss. Chris left me the next day. Through a haze of painful tears, I *begged* him to stay- to give me another chance. He couldn’t. It was November of 2007

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I hate that this made up the bulk of my 20s.
I hate my birthday because it means bad things are probably coming.
I hate that for whatever reason- genetic, psychological, drug induced- *this* is primarily what I remember of my life thus far.
I hate the fact that the ‘Jessie situation’ damaged me in a way I might never recover from.
I hate that I could hurt the most amazing man I’ve ever met this badly.
I hate that he’s not here.

But most of all- I hate the fact that once upon a time, today would have been our 5 year anniversary. Instead of getting to hold the person I loved deeper than any other and just be ridiculously happy- I’m going home after work to the rest of my belongings. Chris is bringing over everything I left at his apartment- all traces of me gone- while I’m at work. Norman will be overjoyed to see his daddy again.

We both made a lot of mistakes. I hate that it was *mine* that finally did this to us.

How do you deal with a loss like this- losing the one you thought you might be lucky enough to spend the rest of your life with- when you know it was *your* fault?