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The Second Time

August 24, 2010

The following is the second in a series of recollections on a past relationship. There was a lot of good.. a lot. But there was a lot of bad that I haven’t ever talked about.. that I haven’t finished processing. But it’s time to move on. It’s time to deal with the past… [read Part 1]

I stood in the street next to my car. After work I had come over to spend the night with him. I knew I wasn’t welcome to stay the night. His rule was that I had to be out of the house by 3am every night. Earlier in the evening, I found out why. While sitting in his kitchen eating a late night snack, his brother walked in from the backyard. Now- it was one in the morning and his brother reaked of weed.

“Bro, when are you gonna come out and hit this?”

I looked at him with a puzzled look. My boyfriend didn’t smoke. Granted, he’d smoked cigarettes when we first met a year ago (I still remember the way his kisses tasted.. my first passion fueled kisses.. with their bitter, smokey tinge) but at the time was on the tail end of quitting and had told me he had stopped getting high a year before he met me.

“Nah dude, you have fun.. she’s over tonight.”

After his brother had closed the door, I looked over at him, “Um… I thought you had quit smoking a long time ago?”

“Nah.. he just started our 4am hit early.”

I was okay with a lot of things. Sure, I played the part of the prudish 18 year old good girl, but I was my no means closed minded. But to lie to me for a year about his sobriety? To kick me out of his house routinely at 3am each night and foster this idea that I was infringing on his space and independence…. while he got high?? Line. And he just crossed it.

So I stood by my car outside his house. And I stared at him. As we talked about what had been going on, he made another confession- he’d installed a key logger on my laptop and had monitered every conversation I’d had in the last few months on top of knowing each username and password to my various accounts.

Within weeks, while freaking out about how I was compromising all sorts of my ethics and sensibilites to maintain a relationship with someone my family would have surely shunned, on top of all our own issues that were adding up, we broke up. I was tired of the lies and tired of having to hide my double life.

It had been a year long affair.

It was our second fight and it ended our relationship.

We had broken up for the second time.

Several days later, after missing him more than I thought I would, I called him. I told him how much I loved him and that I was sorry. He told me how much he hurt and how much I had betrayed his trust by breaking up with himbut because he’d missed me so much too so, we got back together… for the second time.

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