I was eight when my parents decided to get divorced. I didn't really understand what it meant, but we went out for dinner that night so I didn't really care anyway. But the screaming and yelling in the months and years that would follow would make me care and force me to figure out love for myself. I have no memories of my parents ever kissing or hugging, but they must've loved each other at some point because two children came out of their unity. Two children that would be passed back and forth like dolls between two kids. Kids were definitely what my parents acted like in the beginning. They would fill me and my sister's head with hate and contempt for the other parent. This happened so often I didn't know what was truth and what was lying. Despite the emotional turmoil that came with the family splitting apart, I figured there were worse things that could happen. However the rest of my life and mentality towards relationships would be skewed.
    

My first relationship was with a girl in eighth grade, well after my parents divorce. We’ll call her GF. GF was incredibly beautiful and we shared mutual friends so we did everything together. We ended up dating for nine months, but during those months I couldn't stop thinking what life would be like if I was with no one at all. I always ran different scenarios in my head about how we would eventually end. Then the day came.
“Hey, could we talk after this?” We were at freshman orientation sitting way too close to each other because of all the people squirming in the hot gym.

“Sure.” I whispered back to her. I had an inkling in my heart, like black dye being dropped into water, that she was going to break up with me. My suspicions kept growing bigger and bigger until they exploded when we got separated from each other in the humid hallway. I was so focused on finding her because I didn't want to have to be broken up with over text. But to no avail. I couldn't find her and we were both forced to go home with things left unsaid. Neither of us texted each other until GF broke the silence.

“Hey could we talk?” She said.

“Were you going to break up with me?” I texted back, probably too quickly.
“Yeah.” She responded.
I only texted back ‘OK’ and the deleted nine months of digital love letters and an endless stream of hearts and compliments. I don't know why I did that. I think it's because I saw our love as tainted and that we weren't really happy with each other. After some much needed crying and life evaluation, I went back onto my phone.
“Why?”

“Because I don't love you anymore.”

I was crushed. She was my first shoulder to lean on, my first kiss, and my first love. I thought that this was the only outcome of a good relationship because all I've known is my parents and movies. Never any functioning ones. I was all alone. I went to homecoming alone. It seemed that I was constantly alone. I'm not even sure if I'm completely out of believing that every relationship needs to be perfect, or that I'm not alone, but I'm trying to make myself better and just get over it. About a year and a half after GF broke up with me, my dad told my sister and I he was moving to Arizona with my step mom. It was announced to us in my dad's car outside of my mom's house because she wouldn't let him inside. I cried nevertheless but I wasn't sure how I felt. He wasn't really a huge part of my life, but I still felt sad when he left. Nothing else, just sad. My mom felt nothing and it baffled me that even though this was going to bet the first time they were truly apart neither of them cared. So I thought I shouldn't have to care about breakups either, and they're just a part of life. I'm not sure what the rules of relationships are or what healthy ones even look like but, I'm trying my best to learn and to be the best person I can be.