Tonight I was going to watch surgeries with Christina and Alex. The last few weeks we got very close. And during our bonding times I found out that Alex grew up in Iowa and had a crappy childhood too. His mom was schizophrenic and his dad was a heroin addicted. He has a younger brother named Aaron and a younger sister named Amber. His father became violent towards him and his mother. One day he beat the crap out of him and his father left and didn't come back. In 5 years Alex went through 17 foster families. Since the day he left for college he didn't went back to Iowa. But he sends them money. So comparing my childhood to Alex', I was a lucky bitch. At least I hadn't gone through 17 foster families.
Christina was raised in Beverly Hills, California. Her mother was always around and tried to interfere in her life. She had the mother Alex and I always imagined about. But when she was 9, Christina and her dad were in an accident. She had to watch her dad bleed out and she couldn't do anything about it. That's the reason why she went to med school. So she maybe had the mother Alex and I always wanted but she had also a very traumatizing experience when she was a little girl.
So we were all damaged. And we weren't damaged in good ways. But maybe we could help each other. Since I found out about Alex' childhood and that he currently had no real home I decided to offer him a room in my mother house. I thought about to sell the place but that would have meant that I need another place. So I kept the house. And know I was going to have a roommate. The thought about the crappy place Alex was living made me feel sick. I considered him and Christina as family. And they considered me as family. We weren't blood related but we shared a special bond. And who says that family always has to be blood related? So it was the most normal thing in the world for me to offer him a room. And the best thing is, Christina's place isn't far away from ours. Ours. It's still strange to share a house with someone. I mean I lived with my mother but we never really shared this house. She wasn't at home. She was always in the hospital so I had the house for me alone all the time. And Alex wasn't a pushy person. So I knew we would get along. And the house was big enough to go out of the way.
For the first time in my life everything felt good. I told my family about me and him. I told them everything. How I met him at Joes. I told them that he was supposed to be a one night stand. And how our path crossed again and I found out that he was my boss. And my bosses boss. I told them that he was persistent and I gave in. And before I knew it I was in love with him. And that he didn't told me about his wife who just showed up. I confessed that I begged him. Pick me. Choose me. Love me. But that he chose the adulterous wife over me.
My family made clear that they would do anything to keep him away from me. That he wouldn't have another chance to hurt me. So I lost the love of my life but I gained a brother and a sister. But when they asked me if I was still in love with him I told them I was over him. That I moved on with my life. That I didn't need him. But to be honest. I wasn't over him. I was still in love with him. And I thought with each day that would pass it would go away. But it didn't I was wrong. Time didn't heal wounds. And now I was pretty well aware of that fact and I asked myself why do people say this? Time heal wounds. It's a lie. And everyone who uses this phrase is a liar. I know they say these things to make the other feel better. But the truth is it doesn't make me feel better. From the outside I looked okay. People would assume that I'm okay. But in the inside I was a huge mess. I was hurt and I was still devastated. Three month after he left me I was still in love with him. And I was heartbroken. And I was avoiding him. And my family helped me avoiding him. And when I saw him he looked like he is in pain, hurting and regretting. But I decided not to think about his looks. I decided to ignore him. It was safer this way. Because if I was thinking about him and his looks it would hurt too much. And I was hurting enough. I didn't need extra hurt. So I didn't permit my mind these thoughts.
If you think it can get any worse, it gets worse. This seems to be the motto of my life. Nothing good happens to me. Life has a cruel way to take the good moments away from me and put me into a dark place.