Last year in the end of September-- September 28th, 2013, to be exact, my life was on a roller coaster that only went up. I finally found a guy that made every part of my day great. From the time I woke up to the time I went to bed. And everything in between. It all started out behind my house, standing at my fence; a tall, wooden fence that was much taller than the both of us. The fence supporting our weight as we sat by it and talked; we had spent all day together and we still didn’t want to part ways.

We talked about the day, he apologized if wrestling with him at his house had made me uncomfortable, I told him I loved wrestling. An interest we both shared. We laughed and smiled. His eyes shone with a light incomparable to any others. And as he brushed the hair out of my eyes my whole body was set on fire with feelings. Sure, I have been warned that he was not going to be right for me. He would cheat. He would lie. I did not believe them. We hugged goodbye, and we did not let go. Just sat there, embracing one another. Soon our lips were locked in a passionate kiss that we had both wanted earlier that day. My whole body was tingling. I could feel everything. The way his hands had caressed the small of my back. The way his beard felt against my face. I could have stayed there all night. That was the start of what we had dubbed ourselves. The Joker and Harley Quinn.
Everything was perfect. He wrote me poems. Played his guitar for me. Cuddled me until I was soon fast asleep next to him. We were inseparable. We spent every single possible waking moment together. Many days and nights were spent watching movies, playing video games, or listening to “our” songs. I never grew sick of him. I lusted for him when we were away from each other. I always had to be texting him if we were not together.. The only time we weren’t talking was when he was in football or wrestling practice. We fell in love. Quite quickly. My life was complete. We’d be together forever. Or so I thought.
Soon, things grew bad, but that didn’t discourage me from loving him. Yes, he grew angry with me quite often. For reasons unknown. Some would call him a monster. Monster. A monster for ignoring me. Shoving me off his bed. Bruises were left on my shoulders, but they didn’t compare to those that were across my battered heart. A heart that was black and blue with abuse. Monster.  Some would even dare to say that the hickies he had left across my neck and collar bones were not ones of just getting carried away. That it was his way of marking me as his. Like property. A move to keep any other guy and even friends. He was constantly surrounding me. Always stood partially in front of me when I was talking with friends. I could only ever give my full, undivided attention to him. It’s the reason I lost a good majority of my friends. I thought that they did not understand him, and that they were the ones that were wrong. Maybe he was a monster. But not to me. I would never admit that he was a monster. Some would say that he had tore me apart from the seams. He did not. Just stressed the seams. Like a pair of jeans that fit too tight but still determined to wear them. He was my love. Nothing would change that. I blamed his anger on wrestling season. A stressful time for anyone. He was cutting weight. Starving himself and growing weaker every day. His body was eating away at his muscle. He soon became gaunt, and his warm, dark coloring turned sickly pale. Regardless, I still spent most of my time with him. Trying to make him smile. To laugh. To fall in love with me everyday. I was exhausting myself, mentally and physically. I went home many nights crying because I felt like I wasn’t good enough for him. That I wasn’t doing enough. I powered through.
Two months into our relationship and we were fighting. Yelling at one another out of frustration, about my clinginess, about his other lady friends. Crying tears of frustration. But we did it together. Three months of that went on. Valentine’s Day came around and I thought we were done for.. He had called me, and I was getting back from Cadillac. He told me to come up to his house, not a hard feat since we are neighbors. I was preparing myself for the dreaded words, “We’re over.” “It’s not you, it’s me.” He had told me to stay in the living room as he disappeared to his bedroom. I chatted with his mom, out of nervousness I was a chatter-head. He opened the door, a big grin spread across his face, and told me to come in. I was still scared out of my mind for what was to come next. But my fears dissolved quite quickly. Sitting on his bed was a box of Dove chocolates. A big fuzzy blanket and a pillow. He knew I loved my naps. There was also lotion because he enjoyed giving me back rubs. It was one of the greatest nights of our relationship. All smiles and love. I went home on a natural high. The high of love.
Soon after Valentine’s Day everything came to a dead hault. He stopped walking me home in the dark night. I looked up at the moon by myself now. I no longer had a warm hand to hold on that short walk home. Just my own two frigid cold ones. The snowflakes enveloped me in their frosty embrace. Something much different than what I was used to. I cried every time. The tears that flowed down my face turning icy in the negative temperatures. He knew I was afraid of the night. He broke that fear a little more each time he made me walk alone. Needless to say, I soon did not know what there was to be afraid of in the dark. Granted it was a short distance that lead straight to my backyard. But what happened to the days we would walk together? Look up at the stars and talk about what we saw. The kisses in the rain, snow, or on a clear night. What had happened to us?
A short month later, everything came crashing down. One Sunday night I was sitting at home, not wanting to see him. He was very angry that day. I told him I would not put up with it. We had been arguing all day. And finally we had quit texting.. Hours of not chatting. Out of the blue he had texted me. The text had said, “I think it’s best for the both of us if we don’t see each other anymore.”
I slowly texted back, as my entire body shook with rage and sorrow, “Okay, that will be good.” It was good. It was okay. I could live without him. I was lying to myself more than ever in that single text. My entire heart shattered in that second.
I went to school the next day. Putting a fake smile on my face. Pretending I could not care less. Secretly I was dying. I blamed it all on myself. Somehow I did everything wrong. I did not give him all I could. I went home and sat alone in my bedroom many nights. I cried until it felt like I could not cry any more. I even came to the low point of cutting. Dragging the slim, sharp blade across the pale, snowflake skin of my wrist.  The stark contrast of the red blossoming against the white of my skin drew me in. It was beautiful in its own frightful way. I only did it once, but to this day you can still see the slim, silvery scar. It was a cry out into the night as I did it at our fence. Our fence. This time all alone. Sitting on the cold ground. I remember my mom calling out to me, knowing I was in the yard. I pulled my sweater down. wiped my tears. I got up and told her I was just stargazing. Looking at the stars. The stars. Infinity. What we had sworn to. He was gone. I had nothing left to fill the empty void in my heart. But I would be d**ned if I did not wake up the next morning and put the front up that I was strong and did not need him.. I needed him. I needed him more than ever. I needed to be in his arms again. Head up against his chest, as he whispered sweet things in my ear as he traced “I love you.” on my back.
  I soon realized I would never have that again. I went off on a heart-breaking spree. Cycling through three other guys before I just stopped. Stopped and told myself that I could not do this. I had decided that I would never date again until graduation. He has someone else. He is happy. She gives him something I never seemed able to. What that is? It’s still a mystery to me. I miss him. I miss him more than anything to this day. To this day I don’t believe that there is anyone out there that can love me. Sometimes I think that I’ve been lying to myself about him. Maybe he truly was not the one for me. But I can say that as long as he is happy, I am happy. And maybe our love was meant to wait. Maybe one day I can once again share all my thoughts and dreams with him again.  If that day comes, maybe we will happen into our Happy Ever After. The Joker and Harley. Reunited. In mad love.
And if that day does not come.. I will continue to be strong. I have learned to be strong since I have met the man that goes by many names: Dominic, The Joker, The Mexican(not racist), many more, but those are more vulgar because they are names that people dubbed him that actually seen the sorrow and depression that was happening to me behind the smile. Each day I meet new people. One day I will find someone. Someone who treats me like their queen. But maybe I am just hoping for the cliché dreams that every girl and woman wants in her life. For now I am happy dreaming in that way. Because I have always been too focused on what is happening at the moment and not what I dream for in my future. So for now I will live a happy medium between the present and the future and my dreams. Someday. Someone will be so important to me that they bring me back to reality. And who knows, maybe I have met them and we were just meant to wait to a later date in our lives.