Loving Someone Who Moves Around A Lot
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Loving Someone Who Moves Around A Lot

Watching the Distance Divide

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Loving Someone Who Moves Around A Lot
Sarah Rozany

Everyone has that one heart break that is substantially worse than all the others; months turn into years and the pain doesn’t subside.

For me, that painful heartbreak is from a girl I dated for a year and a half.

She started school in my town around February of our junior year of high school and once I met her, I was instantly hooked. She had these beautiful green eyes and short, blonde hair. She smelled of Marlboro Black cigarettes and vanilla perfume. She had glasses, the cutest smile, and most contagious laugh I’ve ever heard. She was painfully shy, and despite being someone who lacks social skills, has no clue how to make friends or flirt, and is insanely outgoing and welcoming, I went up to her and the first thing I ever said to her was, "Hi! I'm Sarah and I'm a raging lesbian." And hey, somehow it worked.

Fast forward a few months and a little drama later, I was more in love than I ever had been. And probably more in love than I ever will be again. She and I were so inseparable. Anyone who knew us could see and feel the love we had for each other. We’d go on adventures and dates to IHop where we’d get mozzarella sticks and we discovered that they taste really good dipped in IHop salsa (I recommend trying this to whoever is reading this). We’d bake and go on random Target excursions. We’d watch The Office together, binging on a ten pound bag of jelly beans and a carton of orange juice. We’d go to the beach, or to museums. She would draw and paint these beautiful works of art and just see the beauty in everything. I’d buy her flowers and we’d hang out with friends. Her family became my family and welcomed me with open arms, love, and support. Her house became my safe haven and her family became my priority. There would be times where I would just look at her and start sobbing because I was so in love and she was so beautiful. She was my whole life. And I didn’t mind it one bit.

We’ve had our rough patches. We’d fight sometimes. But the fighting wasn’t often and so when we’d fight, it would be insanely intense. We never really yelled but that doesn’t mean the fighting was any less severe. I had done my fair share of damage to us and if I could go back and change it, I would. And trust me, I regret everything I ever had done wrong. We broke up a few times, but we were still by each other’s sides no matter what. And I never wanted it to change and I didn’t think it ever would.

She’s moved around a lot her whole life. New Jersey (like 382220 times), Florida, Texas, Long Island, Alaska, and lastly, Indiana. That was where she was before she came to my home town of Marlboro. And I’m someone who had never moved before. I was born twenty minutes from my house and never left. I wasn’t good at change and I couldn’t fathom how someone could move around so much. But she always had the best stories of each of her towns. Of the people she knew. Of the houses she lived in. Of the crazy things she did. And I loved hearing about it all.

She would tell me how she’d move so often that when it was time to leave again, she wouldn’t tell anyone in her school and would just stop showing up. She wondered if people wondered where she went or why she left. No goodbyes, this girl kept everything short and sweet. She wouldn’t get attached to many because she always anticipated leaving again and I guess that’s how you get through moving around a lot; you don’t let any in and so you can never be hurt when it’s over. And that was a huge thing for us in the beginning.

She knew Marlboro was temporary so I guess she always saw the end of us. And when it was time for her to move back home to Indiana, I fell apart. I was losing my second home, my second family, their dogs, their cats, and the love of my life. The absolute love of my whole life. And it was so incredibly painful for everyone involved. But since I only truly understand what it felt like for me, that’s all I can go by. Packing the house up was exhausting. We’d spend hours boxing up everything and I watched the home I fell in love in, the home that in a short amount of time gave me so many memories, the home that seemed to also be mine, transform into a just an empty shell. We spent hours cleaning and gutting the house of spots and dust and dirt. The furniture was gone, all the little figurines or books or pictures were just all boxed up. Whatever we couldn’t fit, we tried to sell, and whatever we couldn’t sell, we tossed. Loading the moving truck was hard too. It was labor intensive and in my head, I guess finalized that this was really happening. I was watching my life be prepped to be shipped to the mid west in just one truck. I didn’t understand how everything that ever meant so much to me was able to fit in the back of a single U-Haul. And I had no clue if or when I’d see it next. Or if I even would. Watching them drive away is a pain I can never forget and typing this just makes me relive it.

We continued to do long distance. I was at home, with friends, getting ready to graduate high school, getting ready for college, and more. In Indiana, she didn’t really know anyone. She was out of school and she always told me how little there was to do in Indiana. So it put a strain on us. From being together every day, we tried to make the switch to texting and Skyping constantly. And once we found how unrealistic that was, is when conflict began to arise. We had no clue what the other person was doing, or who they were with, or why they weren’t answering. We’d each wait anxiously by the phone to get a text or a call. Some days, we would talk a lot. Others, we wouldn’t talk for a whole day. So we stopped the long distance.

She even came back to New Jersey for a while to live here. And things were great again. But she moved back home to Indiana again, and I’m not sure where things went wrong.

Our lives were becoming too different. I was in school and she was studying for her diploma. I was in therapy all summer while she got herself a job. I had my friends, and she found hers. And I guess after a while, the differences just became too much. We didn’t relate to each other anymore. We were frustrated and out-of-the-loop and angry and hurt and confused. I know I started getting frustrated. I know I started getting a little snappy when I didn’t hear from her for a while but I just missed her a lot and was so upset when I couldn’t talk to her all day, every day. It began to get messy, but nothing I didn’t want to fix.

But she stopped answering one day. She cut me off cold-turkey. And I still don’t fully understand why. It took her weeks to respond to me asking her why this happened for her to respond that things just changed. We changed. It happens.

But how could someone just stop answering? How could someone forget? How could someone leave without a true goodbye? And why? I was very mentally ill for a while and I know that took a toll on her and on us. I know I did a lot of wrong but I think I got a lot right too and I just didn’t understand how she could just shut me out.

And I still haven’t fully gotten my closure. She doesn’t want anything to do with me at all and trust me, I tried. I even tried to move on and I did to an extent, but I realized I’ll never be truly happy with anyone else or even myself unless I get that closure from her.

But actually, I’m starting to give myself closure. I started realizing that this isn’t any different from her childhood friends. You know, the ones where she just didn’t say goodbye to? Leaving was something she always knew, each place more temporary than the last. Each person just another face in her book of people she once knew. She didn’t do long, drawn-out goodbyes. They’re too painful. She’s able to burn her bridges, no matter how painful, and never look back. Which is something I never could.

I still live here in Marlboro. I still drive by her house and cry. I still go places I went with her and ultimately shut down. I even still carry a picture of her around in my glasses case and keep a video of us on my phone. I still see her everywhere. It’s like, there’s no escaping her and all our memories together. But she’s gone to a new state with new people and a new life and a new job and she’s probably never coming back to Marlboro again. She’s able to just shut it all out and let it become a memory of her past, while I’m stuck here reliving the pain every day.

She was attached to me and I don’t doubt it for a minute. She did love me and I don’t doubt that for a second either. But I guess when you date a girl who has moved around a lot, she’s able to recover. She’s able to move on and forget and start new and never look back. She’s able to leave people behind and rebuild all walls time and time again. She’s able to heal. She’s able to recover.

She’s the girl who truly got away. She’s that love that’ll never heal.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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