a personal style blog by Lauren Pfieffer

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Home.

I had a post all written out and ready to hit publish tonight. I was wearing a pretty dress and a pretty smile but I decided not to post it yet. I have something I want to write about tonight, something important. Maybe not important to you, but important to me. I wasn't going to write about it at first, but then I realized tonight  how upset I am that I need to.

I haven't been home in a month. It may not seem like a lot to some of you, but for me it's ages. I am a homebody, a person who loves my cat, my bed, and the familiar places of my town. It was a choice to stay in Kent this past month. I could have gone home many times, easily, but I didn't want to. I am so afraid. So sickeningly afraid of going home that it's been one of the last places I want to go to right now.

Home isn't home anymore. It's just a place filled with sadness and memories and things I want to forget. The last time when I went home, I cried nearly the whole weekend. Too much reminded of everything that had happened in the weeks prior. His face haunted every room, I could hear his laugh, see his face and smell the same scent he's used for years. Every place where we used to go daunted me, the memories of happier times and even times where being content was all I needed. And little things I hadn't found to git rid of popped up everywhere, leaving me breathless to still find traces of him left in my life. 

So after that last visit, I was too scared to come back. I haven't wanted to go back since the day I left. I made so much progress in this last month, gotten little bits and pieces of me back again. I can't tell you how proud of been of myself. I'm making friends, doing well in school, enjoying myself and being myself. I'm not a sobbing mess anymore most days. But it's all because I'm up here, away from it all, with no trace of him. I'm so scared of regressing back emotionally if I go back home that not even the draw of my family and my place of residence for the last 19 years can persuade me to come back.

If it were Thanksgiving break right now I wouldn't go back. If it were Christmas break right now I wouldn't go back. If it were anything, I wouldn't go back because I hate feeling so depressed and miserable and helpless. I want to move on with my life, not be in constant reminder of him.

So why am I writing all of this? Why do I keep repeating, I'm not going back, I'm not going back, I'm not going back? Because as much as I don't want to, I am going back home tomorrow. 

The decision has been plaguing me for months. Ever since I found out that night of the festival, seeing him with her. My little sister's  birthday is this Saturday and so is my grandmother's. Two of the most important people in my life who I don't ever want to let down. I want to be there for them on their special day, celebrate, and love them. But I've known for months now what was also on October 13th. My high school's homecoming.

He's dating a girl still in high school and they're going to homecoming together. The boy I went to four homecomings with, three proms. He's going with someone else now. I am nothing to him and he can easily move on with his life, with another girl, replacing me with everything that we were (or at least I thought we were). If there was any day I wouldn't want to go back to my home town, it would be this very day. You all probably don't understand, think I'm stupid...but it kills me. I don't know why it kills me, but it just absolutely kills me inside and leaving me gasping for breath, stomach wrenching sadness to think about Saturday. It's been the saddest and hardest thing for me to think about, something probably nobody understands or can fathom unless you're in the relationship and you know what it's like.

I want to stay in Kent this weekend. I want to have no sound, no word, or even hint of what is going on because this is the hardest thing for me to overcome yet. But I have to put my own selfish feelings aside for one weekend and realize that I don't want to disappoint my grandmother and sister. I want to be there for them and give them the love they deserve on a special day even though all I want to be doing is crying and alone. 

I don't expect you all to understand. I don't expect sympathy or kind words or anything. I'm just so sad and worked up tonight because I realize, finally after the months and months I've been dreading it that this Saturday is happening and I am going home tomorrow. It's not something I have nightmares about anymore, it's not something I think is 'weeks away.' It's here and it's finally happening. I didn't make my decision until yesterday, have been back and forth for weeks now, daily,hourly, minutely. 

I feel so weak and I hate it and I'm angry that I let him have this much control over me. I'm angry that I feel like I can't even go back to my home.I'm just angry. I'm just sad. I'm just hurt.

When will I be able to be happy again?

With much love, Lauren. 

P.S. I have disabled the ability to comment on this post. It's just something I needed to write about to feel better.
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