The relief of breaking up with him

I always thought my high school boyfriend would be the love of my life. That we'd grow up together, build a life, and have one of those stories people tell about ending up with their first love. But after more breakups, drama, and cheating than I could count, I finally understood that he wanted to act single forever—and still have me waiting for him. I was obsessed with him. Somewhere along the way, being with him, even when it hurt, started to feel easier than being without him. I was addicted to him, and I kept going back. I lived in what they call the projects. A nice name for the ghetto. My parents were still together, despite the fact that my mom wasn't happy, and the way my father treated her always made me feel like he hated us. I thought I'd never be the type of woman who could love a man who was that bad to me. But for him, I could have died just for the way he said my name. We lived less than thirty minutes apart and ran with the same crowd, so there was always someone bringing him up. Every time I tried to put some distance between us, somebody would ask what was going on with him and me. "You're meant to be together," They'd say, like saying it enough times could make it true. We never even fought. When I found out he'd cheated, I'd just tell him, "I know what you did. I want to break up." Then he'd deny everything. Whoever told me was lying. Whoever saw him had it wrong. He always had an explanation, and his boys always had a story to back him up. He even tried to get with my friends. Most of them shut him down. One or two flirted back. Maybe more. I still don't know. But underneath all the excuses I made for him was something I didn't want to admit: I kept forgiving him because I'd never forgiven myself. A friend of mine had a crush on him first. I knew that. But the first time I talked to him, I wanted him for myself. There's a saying: how you get him is how you lose him. I carried that around like a sentence I'd been handed. Like wanting him in the first place meant I owed somebody all this pain. I thought I had to pay for it. And I did.