blast of the past

in #blastfromthepast7 years ago

Lets talk about the year 2015.
When I thought I had my shit together.
I was working in an assisted living facility, 5-6 days and 40-60 hours a week, in the memory care unit.
I applied thinking i wanted to go to nursing school, I soon found out I wasn't cut out for that..but that's another story..
anyways; i was working.. Had what I thought was an amazing boyfriend, an apartment and a steady routine..

my days were simple for quite some time.
wake up around 4:30 a.m.
Eat breakfast, shower, hangout on the couch and do my makeup, around 5:30 I'd go wake up my lover
let the dog out, finish getting ready for work.
Sometimes we'd go to Starbucks, those were the days that i knew he was in a good mood.
He'd drop me off, send me away with a kiss and an "I love you".

About two weeks into work we got a new supervisor.. she was a real treat.
Always threatening to fire people, anytime they upset her.

The only experience I had in care-giving was the minimal care I did for my grandfather...not much compared to what I did at work. It's a very emotionally demanding job.

I loved the days I got to go to work and I would volunteer to work over time any chance I got... anytime I was allowed.. because I really loved my job and I loved being able to support myself and my love. He worked weekends at a local grocery store.. Weekends, because he was "going to school"
I loved my work and didn't mind picking up the slack. I worked full time so he didn't have to. I loved being able to support "us".

At work I made a few friends..one was a former friend from middle school, it was so amazing to be able to catch up with an old friend and find out that we both wanted to fall into the same profession, the other was a lady in her 40's who would be my friend for a few days and then would treat me like I was a demon she needed to get rid of..

I spent most of the year crying about being worried I was going to lose my job.
That winter if I wasn't working I would clean,. We lived in a little shitty apartment in a shitty part of the middle of nowhere. work, clean, make sure he's happie. my life. simple. And yet i still fucked it all up. around May we started drinking, a bottle a night, inviting friends over that would bring more booze so we could drink more,.
i cant even count how many times i went to work hungover. how many times i slacked off on my work because I wanted to have a bit of fun on "a school night". But i made it work. Because if i said i didn't want to have these "fun" nights i would be accused of ruining our time together.

In May, a month before my birthday and our anniversary, we had a night together, my first night off in months, i had watermelon vodka you had jager. Our normal routine started with you telling me " you work too much, you dont have time for me, i hate our alone time because you ruin anytime we have off together."... You drank so much that night, i remember pouring half your bottle into a glass so you'd think it was my soda and wouldn't drink it. That night i recorded you spitting in my face, i left and of course a few days later i came back. after that shit was rocky. we fought all the time.
i left you for good in august... we were arguing through text, i was at work and you at home. you told me, I ruin our time together... I loved you but i didnt want to be the reason someone was having a fucked life. you had issues and i didnt want to be accused of making those issues worse. And so i left.

That's when i met 'him'.
I was cracked, broken at the seams.
You showed up with your duct tape and gorilla glue.
Your promises of a better life.
Saying things like "im not like the others" "i care about you" ect...
that year we went to the ocean, and i fell in love.. i pledged my whole life to you.
Blindly.
Wholeheartedly.
Everything i had, i gave to you that year.