A Diary of Young Love

That’s Over

Dear Diary, 3/31/2005

I broke up with Samuel. Monday when he was dropping me off, we stood out in the driveway to say goodnight like usual. He had been acting odd for a few weeks now. And it felt like we were both just going through the motions. So, I told him that I think we should just be friends. He looked relieved. He said he thought that was a good idea and that he had been trying to figure out how to break it off without hurting my feelings. I told you he was sweet. But neither of us felt any sparks for the other. So we just wasted nearly two months because we were scared of hurting each other.

A few days later, my family went to Shawnee’s for supper. They have the best breakfast buffet. And breakfast for supper is my favorite!

Josh, a guy from school, worked there. I went to wash my hands before I ate and when I came out he asked for my number. I gave it to him and hurried back to our table. I had a big smile on my face and my Mom asked what happened. (She saw me talking to Josh.) I told her that he had asked for my number and that I had given it to him. She smiled and said she was happy for me and that it was good to see me smile like that.

My Dad on the other hand, had a completely different reaction. Which I should’ve expected because he’s ridiculous. He said that I was nothing but a dirty little w***e trying to dig my hooks into every guy that crossed my path.

Dad has always had a lot of anger issues. I think some of it may be damage that he cause from years of drinking and some of it is definitely hereditary. He stopped talking and just sat there angry for the rest of supper. But in the car, all the way home, and for hours after we got home, he harped on my for being a “slut”. He kept saying terrible things about me that weren’t true. And calling me awful names.

Mom tries to stop him when he goes on like that. Especially when he starts being mentally and emotionally abusive. But then he just gets mad at her too. And they start fighting. Things get thrown, walls get punched, and sometimes my Mom gets hurt. Then my sister and I lock ourselves in the bathroom until it calms down.

This has been going on for years. I remember when I was 10, they got in a huge blowout about a shirt I wanted to wear to school. I still don’t know what the big deal was. My aunt gave me her old T-shirt when she moved away and I was missing her that morning, so I wanted to wear it to school. Mostly what I remember of that day is just sitting in my room, holding my 5 year old baby sister with both of us bawling and me trying to tell her it was going to be okay. Meanwhile it sounded like the house was being torn down. Stuff was flying everywhere. My Mom didn’t let us come out of our room until Dad was gone to work and she cleaned everything up. I have no idea how bad it got that day. But it sounded terrible.

This is my life. These are the things I deal with. Sometimes daily. Sometimes weekly. But it happens often. Both of these nights, like many others, I cried myself to sleep, begging God to help me. I get so tired of feeling worthless and alone.

*Mandy*