Lost Love

I have spent so much time falling in love with undeserving men that I think I will start to write about it.
So I am not sure where to start but I will start here.
Berlin is where my heart is, where it stays. I went there to study for five months a few years ago when I quickly realized how insanely happy I was. Of course I elongated my stay-TWICE. No regrets at all. I did an internship, got some great experience, so I would be able to get a job more easily once I graduated.

At the end of my stay, when my plane ticket was about to expire I finally returned home. Soon to be followed by my then true love, the one who I would get my vagina waxed for, the one who I brought orange lilies to when he was grumpy, and baked the most beautiful chocolate cake for him. Of course, none of these things were ever enough, the cake was too dry, the flowers too big...you get the picture. After so much excitement and anticipation( I was home 4 weeks before he came) my boyfriend finally arrived in Canada. I could hardly wait, I wore my most beautiful clothes, red lipstick and drove to the airport in my gold Volkswagen. Of course when the flight that he was supposed to come on, he was nowhere to be found. I got a bit worried, I mean had he changed his mind? Was it too much for him...we had been dating for nearly a year...maybe it was too much comittment? I soon calmed myself and asked where this "missing passenger" was. I waited for my phone to ring-it didn't. I was informed that he had likely missed his connection and would be on the flight four hours later. He finally arrived, I was sitting on the ledge perched so I could see him when he arrived. He barely kissed me when he saw me, not passionate. I assumed he was tired. We got his bags and packed them into the car and started driving. I am also quite tired at this point as I had driven 2000km from my parents to Vancouver the previous day, and setting up the apartment that we would be staying in for the next three months and what not. Of course, we get lost on the drive home. The ex lover starts yelling, like a small child criticizing my driving skills and and and and...everything. Anyway, we finally arrive at the apartment, I am almost in tears. What was I thinking? This dude is such a spoiled little shit and he acts like he is 12. We are off to a sour start.

Two weeks have passed. I am studying, working two jobs ( to pay for rent and tuition and food), while of course keeping the entire apartment clean, driving the boyfriend everywhere he wants to go. For some reason he had pictured everything so differently here. He demanded full activities everyday. Keep in mind I am trying to study, work two jobs, and house work etc etc. My friends obviously all work so they aren't able to hang out with him in the daytime hours. He had intent of studying for his last physiotherapy exam and a stack of about 6-7 textbooks sat next to him. One morning I got up....wanted to make breakfast, and realized there was a gigantic mound of dishes....again. It just occured to me that I had been doing all the dishes for two weeks straight, while he sat there and smoked weed all day while I worked and completed other necessary tasks. I asked him if he would like to do the dishes for once...he of course replied that he was on holidays ( for three months with me) and he would not do any dishes. He exclaimed that he in fact would not wash the dishes until the LAST DISH WAS OUT OF THE CUPBOARD. So I stood there and scrubbed the dishes like tears in my eyes. It all seemed to familiar. So after that time, we decided that we would only wash the dishes when the last dish was gone out of the cupboard. Now it was his turn. I watched as he scrubbed dishes for an hour and then graciously thanked him with my toothiest grin for being so kind to help me with the dishes, and how much I appreciated it.

Time went on. I worked some more. One job I needed the car, the other I didn't. Of course, I wanted to make sure that the car was home in case the boyfriend wanted to go kite surfing while I was away for the day. Well he never went kite surfing on his own. I was forced to come along on the days where I needed to be studying....and help him launch the kite while withstanding the cold wind from the ocean. Of course, he proceeded to complain about me. One day he decided that I was a pathetic nothing, and that I was unable to get anything arranged in my life. I had been spending a lot of time talking on the phone with my university because I had spent a semester in Berlin, and I was dealing with credit issues and what not....oh and they also lost my tax forms so I was unable to complete my tax return until I received them. He would call me names and verbally abuse me with insults and swears and words like " cunt" and "bitch"

We had decided to take a trip from Vancouver to LA. Of course he wanted to venture further into Mexico. I warned him the Tijuana was not the most beautiful part of Mexico. But we decided that we would drive a bit further south to the Baja and do some surfing. I had a few friends that I wanted to visit on the way. We began the journey, after me quitting my job on a whim and asking to write an exam later on so that we could have a full month to explore. First stop, Seattle. Checked out the space needle and kept going. We decided to get fuel in Tacoma, and I was so brilliant that I took a really sharp turn when we left the gas station, which caused us to get an instant flat tire. The boyfriend instantly started yelling at me at how stupid I was and what a bad driver I was and this and that. So I took the tire off myself and walked back to the gas station ( as we had driven about a kilometre when we realized the tire situation) with the spare tire and filled it up with air. Thankfully he helped me put on the donut after taking a picture of me returning with the air filled tire. Great start again. Next stop Portland where a girlfriend of mine from high school lives with her now husband and love of her life. They entertained us, and we had a great time. Everything goes fairly smoothly, we tent most nights, sleep in the car others to save money. We have reached LA we cruise through LA all day scoping out this and that and got a flat tire again from some nail, thankfully it was fixed right away and we kept driving. The boyfriend at this point was extremely excited at the fact that we were in the city where Snoop Dogg lives, and he wanted to see where he grew up, Long Beach. So of course after driving through the city for five hours in the gold volkswagon with surfboards on top, I take the Long Beach exit. Was ok at first....but shortly realized it was a huge ship port and ghetto. The boyfriend starts yelling at me that I am stupid etc. etc. same pattern here, for taking the exit. ONLY TAKE THE EXIT IF I SAY. Anyway, we finally got out as we cruise along my eyes tearing and my looking straight ahead and driving.

Mexico: This is where the real excitement begins. We cross the Tijuana border, fly through. We were certain that we needed a visa. I am wearing the smallest tiniest little jean shorts that a girl can get her hands on in 2008. We decide we need to go back to the border to get visas ( the german paranoia kicking in here). Of course we got totally lost in the chaos of Tijuana and I had to get out of the car at a gas station ( keep in mind the shorts) and suddenly I find myself surrounded by about 5 mexican men. The boyfriend did NOT find this funny. He suggested that I take off all my clothes and galavant naked in fact. I ask in my broken Spanish where to go. Of course we had to wait two hours and had to recross the border again to get a visa ( which is only needed if you go south past a certain point, which we were planning on doing). So as we are sitting in the boiling hot car he starts yelling and screaming that he wants to return to Vancouver this instant. He said: OF ALL THE STUPID IDEAS YOU HAVE HAD, THIS ONE TOTALLY TOPS IS OFF. So here I am trying to convince him that flying back to Vancouver alone is not a good idea....when I look back...BOOM. Well it looks like some lady has just hit the back of the car. I can't be bothered to get out and check the damage as we are surrounded by beggars and poor mexican children trying to sell us goods. The two weeks in Mexico turned to a week. He hated it, we found some sweet surf spots where we were all alone all day which was awesome, but he felt worried and scared to be in Mexico. We decided to return even though my Mexican car insurance was good for another week. Of course, as we are crossing the border to go back...I get really violently ill. I am driving ....and everytime we stop I am charfing out the door. I am like can you drive? I am soo...sick. He tries to convince me that I am not sick at all and that I should just continue driving. Finally after we crossed the border he starts to drive. I get more and more ill....and have to roll down the window in an urgend manner as we are screaming down the freeway doing 130km/h. I hope i never splatted on anyone's windshield....I could barely stand it. We were on our way to Las Vegas, mid desert and I am ILL!

Anyway, we see Las Vegas the Grand Canyon, so some more surfing and head back to Vancouver. Actually I drove from San Fran. to Vanc. in one go while he slept next to me.

I take some final exams..in between somewhere I come home from working two jobs ( had worked like 16 hours that day) and hadn't had a chance to eat or drink anything all day. I get into the apartment and I it smells strongly of canibus, which i have no problem with, but the music! It is blaring, definitely everyone can here. My head hurts, it was a really hot day, and I am totally dehydrated. I look in the fridge, and our once 4-5 litres of liquid had magically disappeared. The music blaring, he is high as a kite sitting on the couch making music....as I see a mountain of dishes in the kitchen sink. I ask him if he would like to come with me and get some hydrants. He starts freaking out...do I have to do everything with you? I mean in reality he should have gone and let me sit there, so I go to the grocery store nearly dying of dehydration on the way back. In the next weeks we have some discussions, he was originally going to give me $300 for him being there for three months. He then informed me that he didn't want to break his 1000 euro bill to get me my $300. His argument was that I would have had to pay the rent anyway. Not the point, the apartment was really small we had to share it and I paid $800/ month....and had no money of course to pay my tuition the next semester. So, he left without giving me any money. Of course, we had had some nice times, but I have chosen to dwell on the bad. At the airport I am crying really hard, I have no idea when I will see him again, because I had to complete my studies before returning. I told him I loved him and he simply said, this is too much for me to handle and turned and went through security with no answer.

Leaving me there, alone broken hearted and broke.