Ya know what sucks? Having a partner who keeps breaking your heart.

Lemme explain on this one. Back when I was in high school, I met this kid. He was two years younger than I was when I met him, me being a senior, him a sophomore. Mind you, this was back in '09-'10 area, so bear with me on this. I met him in my math class, and back then I was a dick, horribly so.

We became friends, and one day near the end of the school year, I found out he had fallen for me. Why, I don't know; again, I can't see anything good about myself. So, we decided to give it a shot. I know, I know, it's very cliche. However, I was a closet romantic back then. For a while, it was good; we didn't really do much aside from kiss in a bathroom every now and then, a couple of gropes of the ass. Things like that.

However, as things such as these are almost doomed to, it went sour. Not through any fault of ours, mind. Or rather, it could be seen as partly my fault. You see, this is the same guy I was talking about in one of my older journals. The one who's parents see me as the AntiChrist. As stated in that little rant, his parents hated me for trying to give him a spine. We saw each other in secret after that fiasco. He broke up with me through GMail at that time. We tried to stay friends. And for a while, it was working, and we even got together again after a break up. That was right before I went into boot camp for the US Navy.

As stated in the journal, 'Pain', I broke my leg in '11 near the end of boot, and was holed up in Great Lakes for nine months wearing a long leg cast. Trust me when I say that being close to the finish line and having a hand suddenly stop you for the next seven months is hell on earth. After I finally got through my run and the final test, I was put in a hold unit awaiting transfer to my next command. At that time, I was finally able to get on the computer and look through updates and messages. I found out he broke up with me again, this time through the Facebook Messenger. Are you starting to see a pattern here?

Flash forward to December of '12. I was home on leave, and I got a hold of him. We met up at a park near my house, and talked, vented, laughed and smiled. We even tried to get back together at that point. And for a while, it was going good. However, when I went back to base on the other side of the country, the distance is what killed us. It was not working out between us at that point, and between trying to get in shape so I could stay in the service, working for the legal department, and trying to get my leg to the point where I could run on it again (See aforementioned journal Pain for the details on that), I wasn't able to give him the attention he deserved. At that point, I talked to him through the messenger here, and we agreed that we should split up, but remain friends. Yes, it hurt to do it, but I thought we could stay friends.

Turns out, I was wrong. Jump to July of '13, and I know I'm going home from the Navy. I wasn't able to get in shape soon enough to pass the weight and tape for the biannual fitness test. At that point, I contact him, and you know what? He sees me as a demon. I get him to agree to talk to me when I got home in August of that year. So, we meet up, talk, and agree that we don't work as lovers, but we can be friends. However, it eventually got to the point where we tried as a couple again. I met his aunts in September, and I sat down and talked to them. I'll admit I made some mistakes, however, I was uncomfortable. The entire time, I felt like I was being put on a stage in front of a room of people wearing a hat, boots and a smile. In that kind of situation, my automatic defense is to be an asshole. Again, I know I should have stopped myself; looking back on it, it was a train wreck of epic proportions. However, the past is set in stone.

A few days later, while I was helping paint my grandfather's back patio, I get a text from him. We were breaking up, because his aunts said I was a bad person. I said fine, and left it at that. It wasn't until a couple months down the road that the pain and rage set in. I went to him at the store he worked at, and said I would like to talk to him face to face, man to man. He could pick the time and place and bring the entire state of Utah with him, and all I would bring is myself and a neutral party. I just wanted to get the chance to say my piece. His response?

He threatens legal action if I ever so much as talk to him again.

It gets better, though. Out of morbid curiosity, I contacted his latest ex. I told him that I wanted nothing to do with the boy who broke up with me, I was just wondering if it was an amicable break up, or if he was treated the same way I was. His response? To tell me to fuck off and 'fuck you' six times in three half paragraphs. Personally, I find that amazing. I even said what my first name was, but he refused to say who he was. He knew me, however, from high school, where I was a king of assholes. Apparently, I was mean to him. Newsflash in that aspect: I was mean to almost ninety percent of the school. It was a defense mechanism that we'll get into here shortly. He told me that I was the cause for all of our mutual ex' unhappiness, and that I was the one who kept breaking his heart. He told me that it was all my fault that our ex was the way he was. Interesting, don't you think?

The reason for me being an asshole to most of the school is quite simple, yet convoluted at the same time. You see, I was not on good terms with the football team during my sophomore year. In fact, you could say we downright hated each other. The same went for the wrestling team, since most of the same people were on both. Yes, there were a few who I was on good terms with. Even semi-friends, you could say. However, the majority outweighed the minority on that part. I went to California during the spring to be at my great grandmother's funeral. I left the Monday prior, and didn't get back until Friday night. Here's the kicker: During the wake, I received a phone call asking if I was planning to shoot up the school. The reason my name got brought into it was simple: The school's on campus cop was a joke. You see, the standing joke was that if you wanted to commit a crime and were a football player, a wrestler or a basket ball player, do it in front of him. All he would do was wish you good luck on your next game.

So, when he was asked by parents, he would give them my name as the suspect, considering it was given to him by a pair of football players who hated me. He called my parents and said I was planning on shooting up the school. Their response was to tell him that if I was going to shoot the school that Thursday, it was going to take out a lot more than a few students; it would take out the entire building. He demanded how they could say that. The reply? 'He's in California, you dumbass!'

However, the damage was done. Until the midpoint of my senior year, I was unable to wear a long coat or a hoodie without a two person berth in the halls. And those halls were cramped as hell, as they are in most high schools. The asshole persona was created to protect myself from people, all assuming the same thing: Is he going to go ballistic? Will he hurt someone? Does he have a gun?

The point of this entire tale is very simple: I'm getting this all off my chest in a way that won't hurt me in the end. Notice how I never mentioned names? It's because I have no desire to harm the two bastards who I know are both here on this site. I know their names, as well. However, I don't want them to be attacked. Even if asked in a private message, I won't say who they are. Why, you may ask? The answer is simple.

I feel nothing towards them.

You see, it takes a lot for people to get to that point, especially when I thought said person was a friend to me. When I get to the point where I feel nothing for a person, I literally feel nothing for them. Do I wish them ill? No. I don't wish them good, either. I just don't care. This entire journal is designed for one purpose: For me to have closure. Do I care if they see it? No. Do I care if they feel bad? No. Would I call an ambulance if they suddenly collapsed in front of me? Yes, but only because that's the kind of person I am.

Even if the one who broke my heart those three times sees this and realizes the damage done, and comes to me to ask forgiveness, I won't give it. There's nothing to give. He is nothing to me. When I see him at the store he works at, he's just another face in the crowd of shadows.

If you have reached this point, I thank you for reading. If you just 'x'd out of the journal or hit the back button, or just nuked your journals like I do, that doesn't bug me. Again, this entire thing was to give me a chance to speak my mind and get closure for that chapter of my life.

See ya around for the next one. Hopefully, it'll be better than this one.

-Talon De'Tonare
The Black Hydra