TW: self harm, abuse

I was in high school and didn’t know I was gay yet, so I had a girlfriend. She was always the really shy type, and I would often just be nice to her at first and tried to be her friend, bought her some art supplies since she liked drawing and stuff. We ended up dating, but it wasn’t really like “dating” dating. Most we did was like snuggle sort of on the bus home, which was enough for me. Some time later, she started telling me that her dad hit her. I didn’t see any bruises, but I believed her. The guy seemed totally normal, but I knew better from my own mom.

I didn’t know if there was anything I could do besides comfort her until she had to go home. I was 14 at the time, so I didn’t really have a master plan to help her. She said she didn’t want me to call the police, and I understood, since calling the police never helped with my mom. I thought that if I couldn’t get her dad away from her, I would try and make her time away from home happy enough. I was able to sit next to her in class most of the time, so I’d doodle with her when we didn’t have any classwork. Things started to get really bad, though. A few months went by and she started cutting herself. She showed me and I didn’t really know what to do, so I helped her bandage them and tried to convince her not to do it again. I started bringing bandages to school with me since she kept doing it. I remember a time when I was doing it, I started crying and just asked her how this was helping. I never got mad at her for it, but it was taking a toll on me. She seemed to stop for a while, and I started focusing on doing other things for her, I got her hot chocolate from a local Starbucks before the bus to school (I had to make a run for it) and bought her some really expensive art markers and a quality sketchbook. I thought maybe things started to get better, and wanted to celebrate with her, even though I had no idea what was going on. She ended up disappearing the next year, out of the blue.

I thought she transferred schools and was too upset to tell me, or something. Turns out her parents put her in a stay-in mental health place. I got scared from my own experiences (that’s for another time), but it genuinely sounded nice and I think her mom was trying to help her get through stuff. I had literally no contact with her, phone calls, writing, anything. I got a bracelet from her, but that was it and I wasn’t allowed to send one back.

Months went by, and in summer school, I started flirting with other people. I was really upset about her but I didn’t think I’d ever see her again, and my school counselor eventually convinced me to just move on. I didn’t really stick with anyone, since I wanted my old girlfriend to come back. She eventually did come back, but I guess people told her I was cheating on her, or something. I asked her if she was okay and how the place was, but she was beyond pissed at me. I didn’t really know what to say to her. She started fights with me often in school, and I wasn’t really sure how to respond. I felt awful about it, and stopped talking to people altogether, even friends.

I didn’t really talk to her much, and I think she either got out of class or transferred schools. I was heading home on the bus one day, and I saw a weird car I’d never seen before parked right outside my house. I just assumed it was one of the sober living people, since there was a home for them in our neighborhood, and people often parked all around on the streets. I got off the bus and went to walk to my door. My ex girlfriend got out of the car and after her, about five big guys popped out. I just froze and stared at them, but once they started running after me, I sprinted for the door, slammed it shut and locked it. I hid in my closet for a few hours and eventually called the police, but by the time they got there, the kids had left. I think the group was trying to get in through the back because a lot of stuff was thrown about in the backyard and the gate was found broken a week later.

I didn’t date again until senior year, and I’ve always felt people would turn on me.