Mercer Island is a bit Premature...

My relationships typically in the past have had me with one foot on the ground waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When you have a dad with four previous marriages and a mother on her third it tends to make you cautious about giving your heart to anyone. There were times I thought I was in love, but at 18 to 23 lust masquerades as love to frequently. I want to think that I meant it every time I said it, but I think that with certain people there were better phrases that could have been used.

George, "I love you."

Matt, "I want to chase you."

Andy, "I want to connect with you to forget about what's happening around me."

Aron, "I want to love you for loving me."

With Aron a great deal of the time I was just comfortable. I wanted to love him for loving me and for being there for me, similar to a best friend. It feels horrible to say that, but when you don't connect with someone and you want your own space 98% of the time, you know that love isn't really where you are at.
My dad adored him, my mom wasn't sure from the moment she met him. He blew up at her poker party and spent the rest of the night on the porch swing in the back and then curled up in the guest bed. He was upset about a private moment we had prior to us dating.
He chased me actively and frequently. I would hold my cat in front of my face when he tried to kiss me to create barriers. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't interested, but I started to wear thin and through this I started to develop feelings for him.
I wasn't happy for a long time towards the end of the relationship and was looking for ways to get out. I would have meetings with my best friend Kyle to look for an apartment.
My mind had shut off to the idea of being in a relationship somewhere around the holidays after I had received a phone call from Jesus-Dave about a friend of mine, Sarah committing suicide. After that I turned off. I was overcome with grief and gave in to depression.
Aron was understanding for the first couple of months, but when I shut down sexually his understanding wore thin. He went off on me on the phone calling me horrible names and taking each of my weaknesses against me. In the morning I looked for an apartment and started making plans of telling him that I was leaving him. He had been mentally abusive before this when he sensed that I was going to leave.
One night I pushed him away from me and his side hit the door knob. He lashed out at me by putting his hands around my neck tightly and tossing me to the floor. I was scared of him from that moment, but it would be three months before I could leave. All the while I was wanting out. I told him that I was breaking up with him and that I had a place lined up. We were close to our one year anniversary, but we weren't going to hit the marker together. He told me that we could go through couples counseling, but I had made my mind up. It was my counselor that was helping me with Sarah's death who had made commented on my relationship being unhealthy that furthered my decision.
He spent the night kicking me out of my home and saying hurtful things to me to try to break me. I packed some of my clothes and drove to my other friend Sarah's house and waited for the day that I could move in.
It wasn't until the night before Aron moved to Washington D.C. that he apologized to me for the way he treated me. He told me that the first 9 months of our relationship were the happiest of his life. I thanked him for that and some how it helped me to think of the good memories of him, which there were many. I really did care about him, but I knew we weren't meant for each other.