Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Sometimes you have to tell a story.
Okay, this is a story I haven't told very many people. When I was 15 years old I dated a boy. He was my first real boyfriend and like any young teenage girl I thought that I was in love. We spent almost everyday together, eventually I got bored, as any 15 year old girl who has any rational bone in her body would. You don't end up with the person you thought you loved when you were 15 so its better to end things before anyone gets to attached, or so I thought. Matty was a terrific guy, an old soul, and sometimes a little dangerous. That's why I fell for him so easily and that's the same reason I knew we were no good for each other. I knew that he struggled with depression and he had the most terrible mood swings of anyone I've ever known. One night we were hanging out with Sarah, Chase, Ally, Ronnie, Dee, Cassie, and a couple other friends at Chase's house. Matty decided that he wanted to go to the park that was right down the street. I fought with him for a few minutes because it was late, it had been raining, and I didn't feel like following him on one of his adventures. He insisted that this trip was necessary to unlock one of the greatest wonders of the world. I knew in that moment, not only had he been drinking, he probably took a couple pills, and he was lit. I didn't know what to do so I followed him to the park. I couldn't leave this jackass to himself in that condition. I may have been 15 but I had some common sense inside of me. Running after him, I was tired. Not only do I hate running in general but I didn't know how much longer Matty and I could continue this charade. The high's and lows were unbearable. Finally catching up to him, we sat down on the merry go round. Panting and clenching my fists I knew my body was starting to numb. It was 48 degrees outside and the rain had started up again midway through the chase. However, I could feel his touch and he wrapped his arms around me. I looked up at him, placed my hand on his cheek, and kissed him gently. Looking into his eyes, I knew what I had to do. My voice was soft and scared when I said, "I want to break up." He looked at me puzzled. I was ready for his wrath, I was preparing for the fighting and yelling and accusations. But all he said was, "let's wait until morning. You'll be thinking clearly then." I couldn't believe it. I was angry, and lost. I wanted to yell at him, tell him that he's a complete idiot and I don't want to wait until morning. I want to be done, right here and right now. But instead I said, "sure." For the next few days he called and texted and called and texted but I couldn't respond. I deleted his messages without reading them. To this day I regret that decision. Maybe if I'd just looked at them and read them I could have known. How could I not have known. On the third night he was drunk at our friend Lance's house. He was acting crazy. He picked up Lance's mom's gun and decided to play with it. They all thought the safety was on and it wouldn't be a problem according to Lance. Lance called me, told me that Matty was acting crazy, begged me to come over and calm him down. I could hear the fear in his voice so I grabbed my dad's keys and left home. I was too late. Lance's mom struggled with Matty and the gun went off. Matty was dead before I arrived. When I got there everyone had solemn looks on their faces. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. Matty was gone and all I could think was what if I had answered him? What if I actually agreed to talk to him the next day instead of break up with him. I thought it was my fault. For the past 5 years I've blamed myself for his death. That's a hovering reason why I haven't been able to attempt another relationship. I was depressed for the following year. I couldn't control the pain even though I tried in the most unproductive ways. I think its time to forgive myself for what happened to Matty. There's no way I could have predicted the end results.
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