Chapter Eight: Hindsight

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I know a lot of this covers my ex, and really you might think it deals with multiple exes...I mean, it's possible – I've had a few relationships. Each with their own special kind of messiness – but that's just it. I was a fool who saved the worst for last.

The first ex – the best ex, I know he cared about me because we were truly friends...but it was hard, he was high all of the time. It wasn't like smoking pot – I wouldn't have cared about that. It was doing hallucinogenic drugs that made him trip and freak out nearly every night of the week...and this was college, i wanted to at least try and get good grades which I did for a part of it. When he wasn't tripping he was a kind, respectful, and decent person.

Let me paint this picture, he was so high when he asked me out that he took my phone from me, called himself from it – and picked up his own phone going "oooh Jesse's calling" because he was so high he almost picked up the phone to talk to himself...and then somehow, recognized that I was sitting next to him on the floor and that he was the one on the phone...and he just told himself "I did it, I asked her out. She said yes.", I hadn't actually said yes. I'd said sure – I hadn't had any experience in dating yes and I was nervous and didn't know what to say or how to react...he was high but I liked spending time with him and listening to music.

That was what we mostly did, sat together and listened to music. Honestly, I spent a lot of time with him and the ex from this story. He, the decent one was one of the first people I told of the issues I had with that ex when he asked what had happened – he was the first person I put it into words with...and this was two or so years after we had ended things amicably and he told me if he ever saw my ex he'd punch him. Which was sweet, I didn't need him to say it – but knowing we were still friends was beautiful.

While this first ex and I were in our relationship we barely did anything. That was mostly due to him always being high. Technically, even though he will probably deny it we broke up twice in the same week. One night I told him that "I can't do this anymore, I can't be the person that helps you through these trips. I don't want to have a relationship where I'm not as important as drugs." I said other things too, I was nearly crying as I told him that I didn't want to feel like my mother. I didn't want to be coaxing him out of drinking or using his vices – something I had seen all too much in my own youth because of the experiences I had seen my own father go through all of my life.

Sure, at that time I was mostly aware of smoking and nicotine is a serious issue...well, of course there was also alcohol and pot but those are other things. I wouldn't have cared as much about the pot as I did about the harder drugs. I cared about that because I knew it was a serious vice for him and had had long and extensive conversations about these vices. More than anything he was my friends – and though we'd broken up I had told him that I still wanted to be his friend. I just didn't want to be the person he went to when he was tripping because I couldn't handle it. I was fragile then.

I still am.

Still, the next night when he broached the subject of breaking up he hadn't realized that we had had it the night before. Hell, he'd told me to stop kidding him when I said we'd already had that conversation. Even so, I told him that I still cared about him and that I wanted him to find himself and be happy.

Looking back at things, he was probably someone that I could have loved. Someone that I could have truly loved, because he was a good person. Good people, good men seem to be hard to come by in these days...I didn't know back then that he would be someone I'd cherish from my past. Even if we don't talk as much anymore – it's not because I don't care. I still care.

Still – he wasn't my only ex. Each one I realize was worse and worse. Yes we covered the drug addict, we haven't covered the raging alcoholic who was slightly...just slightly on the too-clingy side of things? I don't mean clingy in a way people normally do. He had high-functioning autism and was an alcoholic. It wasn't the alcoholism that was the issue.

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