where to begin.

Where does one begin to rebuild their life after a tragedy? How do parents learn to cope with a death of a child? How does a woman find herself after she's given herself away for so long? These are questions I have been asking myself, because I want their secrets. I want to know how to not think about the past and someone I've lost and to be happy again. The experiences in our lives, make us who we are. Each one is a definer in the map of our lives. Each one could determine a fork in the road and which road will lead into another.

It's been a year and a half since the break-up between myself and him. We were together for six years and before that best friends for 3. I can't even type his name without getting an automatic surge of pain through the core of my body. Why such strong reactions from just his name? Because at one point in my life, I loved him and gave him more than even myself. I am a strong woman, at least I like to think I am. This whole experience sometimes makes me think differently because of all the crying and sadness I've endured. But he was everything to me. I looked at him and saw nirvana - a complete state of euphoria. He was so beautiful and he loved me the same right back. We were inseparable, so in love, and apart of the same. For the sake of my stomach, I will refer to him as the cloud. The cloud that still haunts me, that hangs over my head. Can you tell I'm not healed yet?

The past year and a half have been a roller coaster. I have had my lowest lows and my highest highs. I have really learned who my true friends are. The single most important thing in my life are my relationships. As a virgo, I am as loyal as they come. So loyal, this may be the fault of my own unhappiness. I was so loyal to him that I pushed through it all. I forgave and tried to forget. But deep down that little inside voice that always said, you deserve better. I wanted him to be everything he could be. His potential was through the roof. He was smart, charming, sexy, hilarious, gentle, etc... I loved him like no one in my life. But what went wrong?

In October 2006, fourth and a half years into our relationship, we decided to move to Chicago. It was a dream of mine and he was scared but then got a boost of confidence and we packed everything up ourselves, drove the UHaul here and unpacked into a modern high-rise in the South Loop. We moved in with my brother and his boyfriend who already lived in Chicago at the time. A 2 bedroom condo with 4 people, made for very affordable rent. It was all we could do. It was the best we could do, and we were so happy and excited. The cloud couldn't leave the condo for awhile, he was scared of public transportation and didn't have a job. I drove him around, designed his resume, searched for jobs for him, etc. He wanted a bartending job. He was a great bartender, charismatic, fast and cute. Being a bartender forever wasn't appealing to me, but he was going to finish school so I could wait. That's the problem though, I waited for him to change for the better and change for the better and change for the better. He started changing and it wasn't what I was thinking. Eventually he went from that scared little puppy in the big city, to Mr. City himself. He knew everybody, he knew where to get the drugs, girls fell over him and he loved it. He loved the Chicago club scene and for awhile I tried to enjoy it too. But it wasn't me and I knew it.

The cocaine always was around. I didn't care. I'd do a pop here and there. I didn't love it but I wanted to hang. The cloud on the other hand loved it. He always had, but it turned from once a month maybe to a few times a week to...well, a lot. But that's the Chicago club scene, it left a salty taste in my mouth. Mr City was always going out, leaving me at home. When we moved into our own place in August 2007, I truly thought we could start building our lives together. I worked hard everyday at my job, the start of my career. A college graduate pursuing her dream in the big city. Meanwhile the cloud got worse and worse. People started to ask my friends how I put up with him. He was a parasite and I was the host at this point. Always a clean place, food in the fridge, bills paid. I was responsible, I have dreams, passions, desires...he had none. We started to clash. His friends didn't know who I was, and my friends never saw him anymore. I begged him for the whole summer in 2007 to go to the beach with me, to go downtown, to do something with me...but on the weekends, he slept all day and I would get up early and start to enjoy myself - which was always without him. I missed him, I wanted a partner. I wanted him back. I started telling myself I deserved more each day. I would come home from work - speed home to see him, because I missed him and he would just be getting up. Coke and booze at the amounts he was ingesting, took a toll on him. And then he would get up, watch TV, eat something, shower and do it all over again. Meanwhile I was going to sleep at 10:30 or so to get rejuvenated for my job the next day.

Conflicting schedules and conflicting activities, led to my unhappiness. I begged, I asked nicely, I did everything I loving girlfriend would have done. The habits had consumed him so much, he didn't give back anything to the relationship. He was a great lover and that gave me the little bit of hope I needed to hold on for so long like this.

He stopped coming home. I would go to bed in our empty bed. He would tuck me in, go out to the living room and then go out later. I would wake up in a rush and brush my hand where he slept and the sheets were cold and empty. I would walk out into the living room, to find an empty couch and disheveled pillows. It was 4 or 5 am. Still no sign of him, no missed calls, nothing. So I would call, sometimes he would answer. Sometimes he wouldn't. He would text me and say it was too loud and that he'd be home soon, or that he was already on his way. I had no idea. But then sure enough, he'd show up, and I would get a bit upset. He would kiss me and tell me how much he missed me and loved me and then I would forget. I would wake up at 7am and right before I left the house each morning, he wouldn't want me to leave. He was so cute when he was tired. I loved him so much.

Then he really stopped coming home. I would wake up at 7am from my alarm and the same story. Empty sheets, empty couch....and then I would call. No answer. no answer. no answer. I would start calling his friends, yes, I had turned into that girl, and trying to find out where he was, if they had seen him. I was late for work at least once a week, sometimes twice or three times in one week because I couldn't leave for work until he came home. I needed that peace of mind. I'll never forget his face when he would crawl into the house at 8:30 am. The guilt. I have never seen myself so angry than when this was happening. And then he would do it again. I was so desperate. I was seeing my friends and their boyfriends, going on trips, dinners, etc. I wanted that. I deserved that! I was in dire need of some attention.

I ended up going to Coachella with my friend Kel. I was invited through my sister, some of her high school friends. I took any chance I could to travel and explore - Coachella changed my life. It gave me the sense of being a part of something. I stayed in a house with 9 other people, jacuzzi, pool, steam shower, it was vacation. The cloud and I never went on vacation because all his money was spent on bills, debt, booze and cocaine. I had a light in my life that I hadn't had in a long time. I was with people who were like me, passionate about music, responsible, funny and happy. After the trip, the cloud picked me up from the airport, in my car and I saw him and I knew. I saw him and I saw what I think of a helpless child. I told him later that week when we were in bed that he couldn't give me what I needed. That I loved him more than anything but love wasn't enough.

He really, really stopped coming home, he drowned his sorrows in the only thing he knew how, but I didn't know. I felt liberated. All my frustrations had turned into anger and I never tried to hurt him, but I did whateverthefuck I wanted.

About 5 mos after our breakup when he started to push me away, is when it all came crumbling down. He was selling cocaine, he was known as a cokehead, he was so skinny, his face sunken in. My sister wrote a song about him and in it she writes about him, skeleton face. He moved in with my two best girlfriends in the city so I saw him still. He turned his heartache into powder and anger. He started to ignore me, say mean things, and put a wall up. But still sometimes at 9/10am he would call when he was coming down and he would cry, and I would try to calm him down, still picking up the pieces. This continued for the next 8 or 9 mos. And each time, he just got more mean. I couldnt get him any other time than those times he was fucked up and vulnerable. I loved him still and I missed him, and honestly, I wanted him back. I'd take anything I could get, even if it was emotional abuse for 15 minutes every few days..then weeks....then months.

I blame myself for my slow healing, because I allowed all of this behavior. I loved him. I couldn't just ignore him. But I should have. I'm too loyal.

It's been three months now since I've had contact with him. I recently deleted my Facebook account, because I saw photos of him and his girlfriend hamming it up in photos. Even though they weren't my friends, we know too many people - he kept popping up. I had to delete the reminders. If you're thinking how he has a girlfriend, it's because he's very good at hiding and lying. And all she knows the the fucked up cloud. She doesn't know anything else. He's not capable of loving anyone. He is numbing himself, every day. I can't deal anymore. It's healing time for me now....

And so it begins...the healing blog. Let's see how it goes...