I am sure the majority of the information that is important is the time when he was doing, and addicted, and I found out about the crack cocaine. But I feel that the entire story of us is important. Don't worry - I will not bore you with the boring details, or information I do not wish to share.
Chris and I met junior year of high school. I was 16. He was 17. He was the new guy at school, and beautiful. Lots of girls wanted him. He was the "bad boy." Long hair, baggy clothes, tall. In short, the druggie. That was so appealing to me because I was this good girl. I had a thing for bad boys.
Through a series of events, we started dating. It was a tumultuous relationship, sort of like now. The trust went out the window soon after we started dating, which should have been a huge sign.
He got into trouble with the law (shocker) for drugs (another shocker). He lied about it, at least I think he did, and never came clean. It was one incident after another, but I was crazy about him. He sparked something inside me. I didn't think I would feel that way about anyone ever again.
We graduated high school and I went off to a two-year community college while he went to tech school. Near the end of this time, he got a job in a factory, putting in long hours on second shift. He only had one day free to see me.
I had just started attending a 4-year university. My time was limited as well. I attended day and night classes, and worked. I was twenty.
After a couple weeks of falling asleep during movies, and being late to come over because he was sleeping, I had come to the end of my rope. One particular Sunday, he was invited over to have dinner with my family. It was a big thing to me - Sunday dinner always was, and this was even bigger because my sister's boyfriend was invited too. The time came and went with no call from him.
Two hours after dinner, he called, sounding like he had just woken up. Needless to say, I was livid. I gave him two weeks to come to his senses. We were on a break.
After two weeks, we broke up. We were broken up for 8 months, during which time I pursued another interest and generally had a good time. However, I missed him; I cried; it was hard.
After those 8 months, and repeated attempts at contacting me, we hung out one night. We hung out for awhile after that, and then got back together. I saw a definite change in him. He cared more. He was over a lot. He was like a new person.
Three months after we got back together, he proposed.
I am going to take a break in the story now. After this, the details became busy. The lies become more frequent. And my energy isn't up for it this morning, at least not yet.