I decided to post here, for my struggle concerns relationship of four years.
Right now I'm a 20 year old male, a freshman in college. I met my mistress when I was a sophomore in high school. We started to talk, and things escalated. Before I knew it I was asking her to go with me, she accepted, and we were a well-known couple around the school.
Years went by. We broke up, got back together, broke up, etc. Our break ups would last 2-3 weeks, then we would get back together. One time in particular, when I was 17, our split lasted a month and a half, and I believed us to be over. I found different women, but it didn't feel right. My heart was with her; I knew that I still loved her, and that I always would. I came back to her, and she told me that things were going the same way. Our love was reconstructed, and I can honestly say that I have never felt happier than I did that day.
It was the end of my junior year in high school, and I was getting a 4.0 in the AP program (weighted, 5.0). My future was set, my father told me. I applied and was accepted into Yale, Stanford and Harvard. Though things seemed great, I then realised that this would be the quite official break up of Amanda and I. I talked to her about it for hours. By myself I thought and cried in my room. As senior year came, I made it final: I would give up my dreams to stay with her. She was as happy as I could have ever imagined, and I felt as if I had done what was right.
Now I'm a Freshman at Colorado State University (majoring in Western Philosophy, for those who wondered). Throughout the year I have been with her and we have been happy. Then, Spring Break, I decided to travel to England to see my good friend who was attending Oxford. I learned that she had often been with John, an ex-boyfriend of hers, and a bitter rival of mine. My last day in England she called me. She told me that things weren't working out, and that we can't go together anymore. She hung up, leaving me speechless.
It's now been a month. She isn't seeing John, but neither is she talking to me. I have given up on trying to communicate, for I believe that I there is nothing I can do.
The past weeks have been miserable for me. I have nothing, I have no one. Consolation comes only from tightly gripping a pillow at night and seeing her face in a memory. The few gifts she has given me solely decorate my room. Her smile is my best friend.
This is where I ask for help. People have told me to move on, but I'm quite sure all of you know that that isn't easy, perhaps impossible. My unacquainted friends, I am plagued with a serious sickness. All the friends I once had cannot help me as I lay on this deathbed.
I feel she is more serious than she has ever been in other break ups, and to make matters worse, she has John again, who she often talks on the phone with, etc.
I need direction, and I hope that I have come to the right place.
AnotherWerther