I came out of my worst experience in life to
find out that my girlfriend had been cheating on me while I needed her the most. In the wake
of my heartbreak, I did something I will never forget in my life. Something I didn't know
I would ever do. It was the most satisfying thing. Without it, I don't know if I would
have been able to get over our break up. Growing up, I had a lot of issues that I
dealt with in my body. My parents and my older brother were the strongest
support in my life at that time, mostly because I did not have any other friends.
I could not have had them. When I was a teenager, I had not attended a day of high school. We
gave up on formal education while I was still in middle school, when my state got so bad, I
had to completely stay in all-day. The doctors were even surprised that I could make it that
long in school. They thought the chaotic and inconsiderate environment would be too much for me
to cope with but my parents were my cheerleaders. I have to deal with high blood pressure, asthma
and ulcer for a very substantial period of my childhood. The blood pressure developed much
later. It was mostly due to the fact that I've been insomniac for as long as I can remember.
And then trying to juggle school and other of my interests. Unfortunately for me, I have
a fixation problem. I picked up an interest, stayed on it for too long and neglected feeding
or sleeping for as long p did not break down. I have to deal with a whole lot more
problems during cold weather and the winter season. The doctors said
I could easily develop pneumonia, which I think I already did but I was taking
medication for another disease which caused my contrition to get categorically worse. If you
are wondering how I managed to still be alone as a young kid with all these illnesses some adults
have never gone through, it beats me too. If you are confused as to how someone as sick as me
could bag a girlfriend, here's the full story. We met in the hospital. I hope it doesn't sound
cliché but we did. We were both admitted to the same hospital. Her, for a less serious case
and me for a life-threatening issue. We had the same nurse and because of the state of the
hospital, only a curtain separated us both. During that time, we started talking and we became
friends. We shared contacts and she promised that when she got discharged, she would keep coming
back to check on me. When she got discharged, she kept her promise to bring snacks and flowers
and comics that I told her that I loved reading. At that time I was actually fixated on
drawing comic book characters. Or at least, mimicking their art style. She
came with sketch pads for me and felt pens to shade with. My parents soon
got used to seeing her around. Sometimes, my nurse will tell them that I needed something
and they would go home and buy it and come to find out that my friend had already gotten it
for me. This made them start calling her Ally like the political word were two states
are allies, though her name is Alison. At around this time, I was 23.
I was no longer a teenager, I had gone through homeschool and I had
graduated. I had a car, a truck, actually, and I had a driver's license. Apart from
reading comics, some of my other hobbies or obsessions were drawing and painting somi
pretty much had a life. With looks, I wasn't doing so bad actually. I had long brunette hair
that was needing trimming all the time. I was already developing a face full of beards. From
sideburns to to mustaches and then under the chin. The doctors and my mother kind of attributed
my quick recovery to my new found friendship with Ally. They concluded that it was because I
quickly wanted to get out of there to hang out with her that my vitals started looking
better. Later, when they discharged me, the first thing I did was to go out
with Ally. And to thank her for all her assistance during my admission, my
parents invited her to dinner sometime. Since Ally had such a good reputation with my
parents and she was kind of my only female friend, I struck a deep friendship with her. Not too long
after, we started dating. My life was pretty much normal for a while after that. We spent time
in cinemas, in restaurants and sometimes, just casual walks because it was good for both of us.
I even drew and painted pictures of her for fun. In the meantime, I was also making money out
of my skill. I was so proud of myself that I fixated on something worthwhile like art and not
something useless like a particular color or a particular shape. I made money drawing the pets,
children, and family of clients my parents picked up for me. At first, it was just their friends
who just wanted to be nice but after I opened myself up to social media, many more people
started seeing my talent. I started getting orders even from other states. I did not know
half the people who used to reach out to me. In the meantime, Ally worked in a department
shop as a cashier and she was also a freelance voice over artist. Having money was never
the reason that brought us together, it never even came up in the picture.
I thought I found a simple girl who did not care for the luxurious things in the
world but soon, Ally started acting weird. One day she suggested that we go to a new
fancy restaurant. I really wanted to please her so I agreed that we did. It was a once in
a while thing. I knew we could not keep up the lifestyle of visiting expensive places and fancy
restaurants so I just agreed with it. We ended up going and really enjoying the experience.
I knew I spent a lot on that date. Far more than I usually would on a meal talkless of two
plates, but it was an experience. I loved it. Another part of dating Ally was how energetic
I felt around her. My relationship with her strengthened me. I can say that whenever she
was around I would feel my body literally getting stronger. That means if I was
having a bad day and I went to meet her, she would end up rubbing off her high, bubbly
energy on me. Sweet got to the point where it was like my heart drug. She was a new obsession
that I was not expecting. My mind kind of fixated on how if she was not around I could not
be enjoying the experience I was having. Everyone noticed this. My parents, me, and Ally.
Of course we all knew that it was unhealthy for me but nobody wanted to say anything. After we
broke up, I actually needed to go for therapy to get my mind together. During the time we were
still together, I was having the time of my life. Did I get to meet Ally's friends? Sure. I met
tons of them. But I still preferred it when I was out with her alone. I hated to be caught
up in the midst of them. Don't get me wrong, they were very good people but I wanted my
Ally alone. My Ally time. And soon,even her friends started seeing it as a red flag. They
told her that it was an unhealthy obsession, which I think it was. But I never stopped
her from hanging out with her friends. It didn't become toxic. I didn't hit her, I
did not think I owned her, I did not stop her from hanging out with her girls. Although,
I got jealous when she was talking to boys, I only told her nicely what it did not me
and it made her blush. We stayed with each other for a little over a year. Even
though I was of legal age to leave my parent's apartments and start living on my
own, even if I was of legal age to let my drawing and painting business become my
official source of income or at least, get another job. Even though I could do many
things, I did not want to take any of the risks. My parents too were not ready to say goodbye
to their sickly son that quickly. The truth was that I still needed them to do some things
for me before I had one of those spells again. Then the time came again. I had another
very bad incident. It started because of my intense insomnia. Soon my system could.not
handle it anymore. I was having severe pains in my chest and I found out that my
blood pressure had really spiked. I could not eat. I did not want to and also
because if I put anything in my mouth, I would throw up. I got some medications
to take as prescribed by the doctors in a general hospital. The more I took
them, the worse my condition became. My body was now forcing me to rest by frequent
faintings. I was restricted to my bed. The nurse came over everyday to give me shots and
lastly, I was put on a drip. My condition did not improve even with the medications.
Soon, they had to take me off them because it increased my chest pains and general weakness.
Then I was referred later to a cardiologist. The only time I was sleeping was
after the nurse came over to give me my injections. But I would sleep with
frequent disturbances. During that time, Ally was not as frequent in my house as she had
been when I was admitted in the hospital. Unlike at that time, she was not bringing any flowers
or getting well soon cards or even just stopping to check on me. I mostly spoke on the phone
and she would get to know how I was feeling. One time I woke up from a spell that got me
unconscious for a bit. Ally was right beside my bed. I was glad to see her when I woke
up but I thought I was hallucinating because the drugs even affected how I was thinking that
period. Sometimes when I woke up I would think I was still dreaming. All the times when I had said
something before and I woke up again I forget what I said. I forget that I had not eaten, I would
think that I had eaten. I forgot some details. I did not go out for a while and I think it
was also affecting my mood. So when I saw Ally there I started to talk to her like
I was talking to my subconscious. And she was answering. She said sorry for not being
present all the time but she also has a life that she was dealing with. I knew she was afraid
of being my obsession with her so her excuse was that she saw this period as the best time for
me to get over my fixation on her. Her exact words were that I'd conquer this little issue
just like I had done other ones in the past. During that time, only my family was there for
me. Even my brother who moved out and worked in another state had to come back because
of my little issue. It was definitely not a little issue. That period ended up being
the darkest period of my life. I felt wasted. I was getting older and I could not even
fend for my parents. All I was doing was being a burden to my parents and now, my
girlfriend did not even want me anymore. Just the same way my mind helped me recover
quickly the last time, this time around, my mind was the reason it was taking so long for
my medicine forto kick in. I wanted to give up. I had never lived a normal life since I was born.
I was not like the other kids. I had no life, really. That period of my life really left
me depressed and it was even worse when I could not even count one real friend
that was with me during that period. I ended up wallowing in my terror instead of
actually looking forward to getting well. I started talking about what would happen if I died.
I spoke like I had no hope. And I didn't, really. My folks were not the religious type so I did not
even have any faith to hold on to for that time. Everyone wanted me to think positively but I could
not tell how I would miraculously just start that. Then gradually, I could stand up and get
around for myself. I could eat but only things like custard and yogurt were appealing
to me. When I was almost self dependent, Ally came to see me again. She was not the
cheerful, bubbly Ally that I missed and really needed to see. She did not impart any good
emotion to me, in fact, she made me feel worse. As a good girlfriend, she said, she had
come to tell me the truth that I needed to hear. She was no longer in love with
me and it was not because of the sickness, she assured me. It was because my life and
hers don't mix. She told me that she wanted someone who was more intentional about
their future than I was. It was in the middle of the conversation that I figured out
that she was now seeing someone. So I asked. First, she denied it but later on, she gave in
and talked about how he's much more manlier than I and she felt better with him. More secured,
safer and more loved. So that meant that while I was struggling with my healthz my girlfriend
was going to see another guy. Funny how my first guess was actually correct. It was Ben, the rich
dude that had a sports car. Even if I did not know anything about the dudes it was that he always
drove that Sports Car everywhere. So annoying. After Ally left, I got into my pick up van
and left for his house. He lived alone in a big rented home. The pickup truck was
parked just outside his building and I just ran into it. After three successive
hits, I turned around without assessing the extent of the damage I had done. As for
Ally, I never spoke to her again after that. That incident forced me to get a better life
and now I'm even much better odd than Ben. Some friendships are built to last forever, it
doesn't matter how early or late in life you meet them, sometimes you just know that
they're built to last. Other times, you think that a friend will last forever, but they
just end up being the one to break your heart. I am a 22 year old black-american female, and my now ex best friend, Sam
is a 22 year old white female. Sam and I have known each other since
before we were born. Our mothers met at the antenatal clinic because they were
dressed similarly and were both new to town. Coincidentally, they also lived in the
same neighborhood and took walks together, cooked together and did a lot
of other things with each other. Sam and I were both three months apart,
with her being older and me being obviously younger. The age dynamic played no part
in our life, however, as I grew up in a household that prioritized speaking up for
rights. I was quick to speak and was very outspoken about things I didn't like.
Sam was more on the quiet side, being the one to calm me down when
things seemed to be getting out of hand. Even as a young preschooler, I understood
injustice pretty well enough to speak up on it. I was scrawny but I didn't let the bigger
kids push me or any of my friends around. As I grew, I began to recognize passive-aggressive
racially charged situations, and while I was one to call people out on it, Sam chose to
“stay out of it” because she didn't know much on the subject and liked to stay out
of things that wasn't any of her business. Now that I think about it, that was a very
weird response, seeing as she was best friends with a black person. Still, I was not
one to need anyone to fight my battles, as I fought them and other
people’s own pretty well. Sam’s parents were my second parents.
They were there for me when my father battled Cancer and my mother stayed with him
in the hospital. They were there physically and emotionally when I started failing classes
due to undiagnosed dyslexia and they even took me to get it checked out for a proper diagnosis.
Where my parents were a little more strong handed with raising me(and I don't blame them, because
they were black parents with a black child, living in a predominantly white area),
Sam’s parents were a little kinder. I saw Sam as an extension of her
parents, so even while she was out with her other friends and had zero
idea of the things I went through, her parents were kind to me, and
so she was kind to me as well. The summer before our Freshman year of high
school, my mother switched from her office job to become a hairdresser, opening
up her town place barely a block away from where we lived. The main reason
was so that she could keep an eye on my recovering father and me. She also loved
hairdressing, so it was no big deal for her. Almost automatically, she became mine
and Sam’s permanent hair dresser, making us promise to let her try
new styles out with our hair. Now, I've got good hair. A full head of
coily 4c hair that's as long as the middle of my back when stretched out.
Sam had long dirty blonde hair that was almost always in a ponytail,
but still it was healthy hair. Whenever I didn't have my hair stretched or
braided to school and took my afro instead, I would get stares. After a while, I started
to notice that my classmates would scoot away from me, giggle and laugh when I passed by.
It went on for a few weeks until the school nurse called me in to check for lice, because
apparently there was a rumor that I had lice. Let me clarify again that I was the only
completely black student at school. The only other person was a mixed race
Japanese girl. I had no idea she was mixed race until her father came to pick
her up one time in elementary school. As someone who never let things go, I
investigated the case to find out who had been spreading those rumors about
me. It turned out to me by best friend, Sam. When I confronted her, she swore that it
was just a joke she had told that was taken out of context. I obviously believed
her because she was my best friend. We started to really drift
apart in sophomore year, when I joined the Journalism club. I became
friends with a different group of kids and we got along really well together. I even got
closer to the club’s head, who was a class above me and also played basketball. We went on
a few dates together before becoming official. I told Sam during a sleepover,
but begged her not to tell anyone, as it was still under wraps. By the end of
the week, the entire school knew my little “secret”. My new boyfriend was fine with
it, but it made me incredibly uncomfortable that my own best friend wouldn't
know how to keep a secret from me. Again I confronted Sam and she brushed it
off, saying everyone already knew anyways and it was not as much of a secret
as I thought it was. At that moment, I knew that I had to either stop telling
Sam really important things, or find a way to change her. Stupidly I decided that the
latter would be easier, because not only was she my only childhood friend, she was my best
friend for pete's sake. There had to be a way. My boyfriend and I were together for nearly
8 months, and we broke up after I wrote an article on black hair and its significance for
the school’s newly launched online magazine. A lot of the comments from other POC students
supported the article, but the majority thought that it was too aggressive and somehow
felt threatened by it. One of them, who was Sam. It caused a huge discourse among
the journalism team on whether to keep the article up or take it down,
and when I pushed for it to stay up, it caused a fight between my boyfriend and
I. We argued for a whole week, and then he broke up with me for being too stubborn and
dramatic about something so simple. He also wanted to get me kicked off the team, but
the teacher who headed the club refused it. I was heartbroken and spoke to my best friend
about it, and despite being comforting and doing all the things like watching sappy movies
with me and eating copious amounts of junk food, she also let me know just how much she hated
that I was dating him. In the moment it felt good to hear her say it, because I
assumed that she missed me. However, in retrospect I think she meant
it in a completely different way. I didn't get with anyone until senior year, when it was time to choose colleges. Sam and I
had always wanted to go to California together, so we applied to the same universities.
After we got our admission, we started registrations together. During the whole
orientation process, I met a cute second year foreign exchange student who had the nicest
French accent and incredibly soft, fluffy hair. We got along as friends pretty well, and although
I fell really hard for him, I wanted to take it slow. I desperately wanted to tell Sam, but I
had my reservations based on past experiences. During the time that I wondered
whether or not to tell her, she let me know that she was in a
relationship and needed my advice. Something about her asking me softened my
heart and I exchanged information about my new crush. She encouraged me to go for it and
get together with him, which I did. For a while, school seemed to be going well, my
relationship with my best friend was smooth sailing and I had a hot french boyfriend
who wanted to be seen everywhere with me. We were together for about 7 months before
my 20th birthday rolled around. My boyfriend intended to surprise me with a trip to France,
but being the person I was, it was very hard to let anything get past my nose. He decided to tell
Sam instead. After all, she was my best friend. From his side of the story, Sam was against
taking me to Paris, saying something about not being sure if I would fit in. He also
mentioned that most of the things she said, she said them suggestively, as if trying to make
it seem like he was the one thinking or saying it. I was of course pleasantly oblivious
while all of this was happening, simply satisfied that my best friends and my
boyfriend were getting along. They even had an inside joke between themselves and that
just gladdened me even more. I don’t know why but I didn’t think that Sam would ever
do anything to sabotage my relationship. About two weeks to my birthday, Sam started
to tell me about how she didn’t trust my boyfriend and that she felt like he was
just “joking around” with our relationship. She also “found” his old twitter with
some racist tweets and showed it to me, making me promise never to
tell him that I had found it. This was where I started to get suspicious of
Sam, because my boyfriend still used the same twitter from over 8 years ago, and most
of what he tweeted were gaming shitposts. I was very confused about who to believe, so I
expressed my feelings to another friend of mine. They told me to confront my boyfriend
about the accusations that Sam brought forward and see what he said. The way
he defended himself would let me know whether he was being honest or not. I took her
advice, and just a few days till my birthday, I spoke to my boyfriend about how I felt
and the things that Sam had told me. He was very red in the face as he explained that
Sam had actually been trying to move on to him. This was where he spilled the surprise that he
had for my birthday and how Sam had discouraged him against it, saying that I didn't know how to
act in public settings and that I was too loud. What broke my heart was knowing that these
were things that Sam could actually do. I'd deliberately blinded myself all these years
because I believed that she would change, but hearing my boyfriend talk, I
realized that I had been fooling myself. Still I wanted to hear from the Horse's
mouth and set up a meeting with them both, asking them to be honest or I would never
speak to them again. That was when Sam went on a long rant about how u didn't
deserve someone like him because girls like me ended up pregnant at 15 and girls like
her were the ones who got with boys lil him. She said many other things that
I would like not to recall, but they were mostly racially charged
and it was so sad seeing all the hatred on her face. Sadness turned to anger when she
started admitting to some really shitty things that she had done without my knowledge,
and I made it a point to get back at her. After the huge confrontation, it was like a
film had been removed from my eyes. I began to see that Sam really wasn't a good person.
She did drugs recreationally, skipped classes, and messed around with professors. She also
had a few cases of assault and drunk driving to her name, but because she had money, she
was able to silence the people she had hurt. I spent an entire weekend compiling
evidence on all the bullshit that she had been involved in, which
was well over a year’s worth, and I sent them to the school and
her parents. Anonymously, of course. She was kicked out of the school and taken to a
smaller, more compact rehabilitation center in a desert in Utah, where she was diagnosed
with Nymphomania, alcohol and drug abuse, as well as some other behavioral issues
and would be watched all the time. Did I feel bad after? Yes, I felt absolutely
horrible that I did something so life-changing to get back at the girl who was supposed
to be my best friend for being racist to me and attempting to steal my boyfriend.
But in order to justify my actions, I always tell myself that if I didn't do
it, maybe she would have gone too far. I'm 22 now and just graduated from
college. My boyfriend and I are still together and we're taking a year to
travel around Europe. Sam got out of the rehab center about a year ago and started
attending community college close to home.
