I went to high school with him.  He was an ass then and is an arrogant ass now.  Unfortunately, it took me awhile to figure it out the second time.  

For some strange reason, out of no where you messaged me on Facebook.  I wasn’t going to answer. I hated you in high school.  But, damn, you were persistent.  Finally, I said hi back, we exchanged the usual pleasantries and before I knew it, we were talking almost non stop.  For 2 weeks straight we talked on the phone, through Facebook, we emailed and used Yahoo messenger. You made me feel like I was important.  You acted like you cared.  I knew I couldn’t have you….but you made me feel so good.  I hadn’t felt like that in years.  It was intoxicating.  

And then one day, it abruptly stopped.  No warning, no explanation.  You were gone.  I went to your Facebook page and your status said you were on your way to get your wife and kids from  the train station.  Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?  Did you know I cried the entire day?!  ALL FUCKING DAY!  And the stupid thing is, when you messaged me a few days later, I was happy to hear from you.  I forgot how much you hurt me.  So I spent the next six months eagerly waiting for any scrap you would throw at me. I believed you when you told me I was important to you, even though it was getting to the point where you messaged me once a month and only for sex.   I remember the last real conversation we had.  It was in January 2012, we were talking about music and that’s when you mentioned how much you liked Lily Allen.  It’s funny how her song Smile reminds me of you now.  I don’t normally relish in other people’s misfortune and pain, but I guess you’re the exception.  

Little by little I phased you out of my life.  I unfollowed your Tumblr, Instagram, and last year I finally blocked you on Facebook.  I deleted all your emails and pictures.  But for some fucking reason, your picture comes up in the image section when I google my name.  My heart no longer skips a beat when I hear Yahoo messenger.  I no longer wake up in the middle of the night and scroll through my emails looking for your name.  The only reason I am here writing this Patrik is because the other day I went to my Amazon account and guess whose wish list popped up on my dash?  And the amazing thing was, I felt nothing.  

My mom is dying.  She has end stage emphysema and her doctor recently told her that she probably wouldn’t live another 5 years.  There is no cure for my mom’s condition, all that modern medicine has to offer her is a few medicines to help control her symptoms and eventually they will quit working.  She will more than likely spend her last days on earth gasping for air. What a tortured way for a vibrant, active woman to die.

For as long as I can remember, my mom has never sat still.  She always had somewhere to go or something to do.  SHE NEVER STOPPED!  As I grew older, I often wondered if her constant need for activity was her way of running from her demons.  She had a lot.  Her parents, Oscar and Bertha, were cold and distant.  Oscar was an alcoholic Danish immigrant who spent most of his life at the bar and Bertha was mentally ill and spent months on end staring out the window.  

My dad was probably her biggest demon.  He was pretty much an asshole.  According to my mom, he would spank my 4 month old brother when he would cry, then yell at my mom for not keeping my brother quiet.  I was terrified of him my whole life.  I vividly remember him calling her a cock sucker because something of his was lost and obviously it was her fault.  He yelled at her for everything, calling her every name imaginable. Nothing was ever good enough. It’s a shame she had to live her life that way.  In spite of all this, she accomplished everything she put her mind to. She wasn’t afraid of anything.  She always had a spark of life in her.  

Now, as her disease progresses, I can see her spark dwindling.  It’s so hard to watch.  She had so many plans.  So many trips she wanted to go on.  Now she can barely walk from the kitchen to the dining room without needing oxygen.  She tries to be brave and act like she’s all right.  I know she’s not.  I see the tears in her eyes.  She’s terrified, and so am I.      

Today would have been Doug and my 10th anniversary.  I was 4 months pregnant when we married but I couldn’t have been happier.  I found my knight in shining armor, or so I thought.  Little did I know my life and the lives of my kids would become a living hell.   

Wedded bliss did not last long.  Before I knew it, he was vicious, and emotionally abusive to me and my children.  I started therapy again to try to make sense of what was going on.  I had to figure out what I was doing wrong to make him hate me so much.  Doug agreed to come with me to a few sessions and during our last session together Doug dropped a bomb shell on me.  He told me I was no longer attractive to him because I had gained weight.  He admitted he was shallow and he could not stand to look at me. He felt bad for me when sexy skinny women came on the television.  He couldn’t believe how unattractive I’ve become.  

I was stunned.  Never in a million years would I think Doug would say those things to me, but at least I knew now why he hated me. I knew now that the abuse was my fault.  I cried, hysterically.  It was my greatest nightmare come true.  I have always been made fun of for my looks and weight by friends and family.  If you just lose 10 pounds was my families favorite thing to say to me.  And now I married someone who was ashamed of me too.  

I couldn’t eat in front of him for a while.  I tried to keep all of my fat covered and hidden so he wouldn’t be as repulsed by me and my ugliness.  I would never undress in front of him, it was too embarrassing.  I was so ashamed of myself, in fact, I still am.

Now that our marriage is over, the events of that day still haunt me.  I will never be able to be fully naked in front of another man.  The thought of it makes me cry and hide my face.  When people tell me I’m pretty or sexy, I know they are lying.  How could those words ever describe me?  It’s impossible..    

As the summer draws to a close, my heart is heavy and filled with sadness.  All the time I thought I had is gone.  All the plans that were never brought to fruition are just distant memories.  I am permeated with doubts and regrets.  

I just wish I could get my life together.  I feel like I’m just a dried up blade of grass unable to withstand the force of the blowing storm.