The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt him. I was in love with him, but what he did to me . . . am I not justified in the least bit? My friends say I am, was, whatever. But I have never had confidence in the theory of an eye for an eye. You should not repay hurt with hurt. I did not mimic what he did to me and I never will . . . to anyone.

But Im getting ahead of myself aren't I? Lets start at before all that happened. We had been together for eight months, and we were happy . . . or at least I was. How he treated me, his personality, his affection . . . I fell in love. Then it happened, or rather I discovered what had happened.

Trust has always been an issue for me. I trust very easily, but break my trust, and its almost impossible to regain it. He had lied to me about, what I now admit to be, little things. Thinking back, I see now that I did slightly over-react. But I truly believe that trust is the most important thing in a relationship, second only to love.

So, at first, I whole-heartily trusted him. But he slowly tore away that trust. Yet, there was something about him . . . Going on my fifth year of non-living with depression, I had not had much happiness in my life. Then he came into it. All my problems seemed to melt away into oblivion where they would only be able to resurface when he wasnt there. I began to live. I lived happily with him for months.

It was May, and everyone, especially me, was anticipating the rapidly approaching summer. Its allure was tainted only by the constant preparation for the finals that we had before the break. So, I was spending a lot of time with him, as I always did. But something seemed illusively wrong. I was constantly questioning his integrity and he didnt like that, because for a lot of the things that I questioned him about, he was telling the truth. I know that now, but I didnt then. Sorry, Im getting off the subject.

We were having some trouble, but none worse than those of any other pair of people sharing their lives with each other. Yet, I had this wrenching feeling that there were things I didnt know, things he was neglecting to share with me. I had this almost paranoid feeling that this one female friend of his knew more about him than I did. So, one weekend he was at work and I went to his apartment to take out our dog.

Then I saw it.

His backpack was just laying open on the floor, with The Notebook sticking out. He had been reading it earlier and I had seen him going through the pages many times before, but I never thought about its contents.

This notebook had been passed back and forth between him and the aforementioned female friend. I have no idea why, but I never really noticed it before. We had fought the day before and in his petulant silence I watched him read the notebook. I could see some of the writing, as I glanced over his shoulder. I saw that some of the writing was hers, while the rest was his. The only problem with that was that I felt like he would rather talk, er . . . write to her instead of me. What made her so special?

So there was The Notebook. Right there laying out in the open, its blue cover guarding His secrets, where anyone could just open it up and read it . . . I really did feel bad about spying on him, but I wanted so badly to know him. Like she did. And better. I had not known him as long as She had, but I still wanted to know more. . . I should know more, being his girlfriend and all. So, ignoring the voice that told me to respect his privacy, I opened it.

I followed our exuberant dog outside, reading the first entry in The Notebook. It was by her and it seemed to continue a conversation written in an earlier notebook. Babbling on for a page or so, She wrote about herself, then how much she hated me, then how much she wished he would treat her better, then about how my old boyfriend was back, and on and on and on . . .

When an hour had passed, I needed to return home. I was still reading, and, against better judgment, I took it home with me.

After a few pages of learning really nothing at all, my eyes grew wide. She had written a sentence that, for lack of a better word, shocked me. Remembering that moment now, I truly dont recall what exactly it said, all I remember was that the words that hit me like a ton of ice. I stared at the page for a minute, letting it sink in. I was suddenly hit with fear, sadness, betrayal, anger and astonishment. My eyes started to fill with tears, but I refused to let them fall. Blinking them away, I swallowed the knot in my throat and continued to stare at the sentence, those few words that had smothered my entire new world of happiness and light.

I threw The Notebook on the floor in front of me. I cradled my head in my shaking hands for comfort from the threat of breaking down. That darkness that had controlled my life only a year earlier, and had slowly been pushed away by him, threatened to overwhelm me. Taking a deep breath, I looked at The Notebook, laying open on the floor and stared at that sentence. The decietfull words that had revealed that he had been unfaithful.

I had trusted him. He had betrayed me. But knowing her, was she telling the truth? Out of sheer will power, however much I did not want to continue, I forced myself to pick up The Notebook and read on. It was the only way to find out if she was telling the truth. But reading on only fueled the intense darkness that began to take its hold on my life again. He responded casually to her comments and never denied it.

Why? What had I done that had pushed him so far away that I didnt even know these things?

I felt so stupid for trusting him . . . and her. She was his friend and I tried to be friendly towards her - apparently the attempt was not mutual as I had thought. I actually tried to befriend her, being entirely more tolerant than I should have been. I had trusted him when he told me not to listen to rumors. What was I going to do now?

Once again I thought I was going to break down. Tears began to fill my eyes, but I still refused to let them fall. I was too afraid right now. I was afraid that if I gave in, if I allowed myself to cry, that I would never be able to stop. I wanted to scream, to sob until my eyes were too dry to cry anymore, until my vocal cords ripped apart from sheer exhaustion. But I couldnt. If I did, I wouldnt be able to stop myself.

But so what? I could cry myself to death. Right now that felt like a fine idea. No more pain, no more betrayal, no more lies. I could be at peace . . . but I swallowed and forced everything back down. I shut off those feelings and pushed away those thoughts for later. I could not let him get to me like this; I couldnt let him win this game that he was apparently playing.

My mother picked me up after she got off of work so that we could spend some time together and I shared the news. I couldnt help but laugh at her response. She was completely shocked and empathetic, but she also went ballistic. She went to his home with the key that I had and raided his apartment. I know that it wasnt right to take back everything I had given to him, or to let my mom take his Game Cube, but it was just too damn funny. I think that I was just in shock and maybe my real feelings - that pain, fear, betrayal, sadness, etc - hadnt really set in yet. The initial wave of those feelings had overwhelmed me, but they were set aside by my mother and her attempts to cheer me up. She gets on my nerves but at times like this, Im glad shes there for me.

While my mom busied herself with packing up his Game Cube, I ripped up a note that he written to me just days before, telling me that She had posed no threat to me. I had believed him. So Im naive, bite me.

I took off the ring he had given me on Valentines Day and placed it on top of the monkey I had given him. The long, slim Capuchin lay in a mess of torn paper. Had my mom not interrupted the moment, I would have cried at the sight.

I didnt call or anything, I knew that he would know when he saw what laid on his floor.

That night I tried not to think about it. I busied myself with the computer, a movie, a book, my cat, anything but the reality that had once again reminded me of the darkness that seemed to be my fate. I stayed up as late as possible so that when I did lay down to sleep, I wouldnt be able to stay up and think about what I didnt want to think about. It lingered in the back of my mind, yelling at me that I would have to think about it sooner or later. I cringed and tried to quiet the voice that I hated so much. I hate it when Its right.

My plan worked and I fell asleep as soon as I hit the pillow, grinning to myself for avoiding It for just a little while longer. I dont think I had any significant dreams that night, I dont remember. I do remember, though, how I felt the next morning. Wearily decayed.

I wasnt in what you would call a cheerful mood. I did not want to wake up. Waking up meant another opportunity to think about It. Which, obviously, I did not want to do. I tried to continue last nights activities, but I was just too mentally exhausted to focus on any lame task that I made up for myself to do. I dont remember too much of what happened that day, I think I was still numb to the whole situation.

I still refused to cry, or even talk somberly about it. I joked around with my mom and step-dad, and I think they knew what I was trying to do. Im glad they decided to humor me. My sisters also made me feel, if just slightly, better. They told to dress really sexy the next day; to really make him see what he had lost. I laughed and agreed with them, but I knew that I didnt have to dress sexy to make him see that.

Over the next week I desperately tried to keep myself composed. I avoided his gaze, afraid that if I was to look into those blue eyes, I would break down and not be able to get back up. She seemed to be the only one content about the situation. She was glued to his arm for a few days, I guess expecting that, now that he wasnt tied to me anymore, he would go to her. She was wrong. He seemed just as hollow as I felt.

He walked around like a tormented shell . . . his body was there, but He wasnt. I remember watching him eating lunch. He stared into space while She unsuccessfully tried to get his attention. I knew that he was regretting his decision, and for the first few days, I can honestly say that I was happy that he was so somber. After that, the struggle to prevent myself from crying grew increasingly difficult. Like I said, I am naive . . . . and I still loved him.

I tried not to look like I was hurt, but to look like I always did. I didnt try to act happy, just not pathetic. I was so ashamed that I hadnt seen it coming. That I had tried to befriend her! That I had trusted him, and not noticed that the person I loved so much was not being faithful. How cold I have been so stupid?!?!

I tried to avoid him. Thinking that if I gave in to my desperation to talk to him, that I would be weak and break down. I loved him so much . . . I had given him everything. And that love didnt pay off. But who falls in love because they choose to?

I sat and thought, finally allowing myself to consider what had happened and what my options were. For the first time, cuddled under a number of covers in my bed, a week after I had discovered all this, I permitted the dejected tears to fall.

* * * * * * * *

I dont remember how the next week went exactly. All I know is that my attempts to forget about him and move on, failed miserably. Five years ago, I would have tried to commit suicide if this had happened to me. I was very young and depressed, loving some boy wouldnt have stopped me back then. Back then I didnt want to live, I was crying all the time and sleeping far too much. My grades were horrible, and I didnt care about anything. I just wanted to be left alone. I just wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear from this world. I was desperate to get away from all of the pain, the betrayal, the lies.

I existed, as aposed to lived, like that for four and a half years.

But then, I met him. Everything changed. Its not like it was monumentally dramatic or anything like that, but slowly he changed my life. He helped me push away those feelings to give room for new, more contented ones. He showed me all the things I couldnt remember where out there. Love, happiness, content, joy, fun, compassion and, at least I thought, trust. They all came back to my life in a wave of light that pushed away the darkness. My friends and family had helped me a lot, but not like he did. He was there for me to cry on, talk to, or to just exist with. I loved him almost immediately, and I slowly fell in love with him. He had done so much for me, yet because of one single deed, everyone expected me to easily move on.

Anyway, I got kinda off track. That second week after my discovery, we began talking again. I needed answers. This was not fair; to let the one I loved get away so easily, without answering my questions.

There were times when I just wanted so badly to have him hold me . . . to comfort me and tell me that everything would turn out for the best. He told me that, although The Notebook made it sound like multiple times, they had only had been together once while he was with me, and that time was a few months before.

He told me that we had gotten into a fight and he had been so depressed that he was in a state of hypnotic nostalgia, where he was totally unaware of his surroundings and really did not realize what She was doing until it was too late. I had seen him go into this kind of state before, but I found it extremely hard to believe that he wouldnt notice someone pulling down his pants and sitting on him. I had reason for doubt : not only had he lied to me, but the story was just not convincing.

I brushed it off. The event that happened in and of itself was important, not who, what, where, when, and how it happened. I only cared that he had done such a thing. I paid no heed to his excuses, because thats what they were to me - excuses.

As we spent more time talking about it, I began to learn to read his face. At least better than I had before. I saw the sincerity in his eyes when he apologized, over and over and over. He didnt ask for me to take him back or for anything at all, only for a few moments to apologize for the act that he said had ruined his life as well.

I was still so angry with him, but it was like he had this power over me. To look into my eyes and draw out that love I had for him and let it take over the anger.

Then I found myself being a hypocrite. I claimed to be in love with him. I said that I was truly in love with this one man. But isnt true love supposed to be unconditional? I believe so. And I realized that I loved him no matter what. I was truly in love with him.

If my love had disappeared completely when I found out, I would have been glad that he did what he did. Because it wouldnt be right for us to be in a relationship for so long if I truly did not love him. It would not be fair to either of us. My friends and family urged me to move one, but to say it is quite different from doing it.

Too many things went through my head. How much I loved him, how much he had changed my life for the better, how happy he made me; and what he had done, how he had betrayed my trust, when I loved him so much.

I did so much thinking that last month of school. I suffered from constant headaches and low energy. But I was slowly coming to my decision.

I believe that you only come across one true love in your life. The rest, you only think your in love, and you eventually realize the truth. True love never ends, the feeling continues on in the souls of those people forever. But usually we only think that we have found our soul mate when in fact we have spent valuable time with people who will simply make us better as humans in the end. But that one person, that soul mate, makes you unquestionably happy. That love protects you and comforts you. That love inspires you and encourages your good habits, while giving constructive criticism for your not-so-good habits. You do not question anything when your with that person, and all you want is to be with them. To simply be in their arms . . . forever.

I considered what he had done, and how he had made me feel before I knew what had happened. For some reason or another, I felt stupid for staying away from him. People do make mistakes. So, why? What was the point of staying away from him? It only made me more depressed. Why was I being so stubborn - staying away from the only good thing in my life.

Then I felt foolish again. Not for those things but for thinking that I was moronic to avoid the person who had betrayed me in such a way. But thats futile, I remember thinking to myself, I am depressed without him, and happy with him . . . whats the problem here? He had cheated on me! With the one person he assured me was not something to worry about! I felt, and still do feel, so idiotic about it all. But I have rambled on long enough about that.

If there is only one person for me, then why was I pushing him away? I knew that he was mine. My soul mate. But how? Thats like asking How do you know if there is a god? If you believe that there is a god, you know that there is a god. Not from your senses, but you just . . . know. And I knew that I loved him. It wasnt a matter of question. I knew. There was no way to change my mind, and there still isnt.

But what about this situation? What to do . . . what to do . . . .

When summer finally came, we decided against the judgment of our friends and family, and probably the better of our own, to try and work it out. I know, I told you I was naive. But I was happy. I could never forget what happened or how I felt. And just now, after over a year together, I am only starting to move on and start to trust him again, but only in the least bit.

Ok, so your thinking, Your stupid! He cheated on you! Hell do it again! But you know what? Even if he does, I would never give up what we have now. And what we have now does not allow room for cheating. The darkness has gone away again. You cannot be cured of depression, you can only learn to cope. I will have it all of my life; anytime something in my life goes terribly wrong, Ill resort back to the darkness of which I have become accustomed to. Its inevitable.

But right now, the darkness is far away. Too far to come back anytime soon. His love that he shows for me now has kept it away, and I am extraordinarily thankful for that. He still apologizes every day for what he did, still showing how remorseful he is. I could non-live, exist without the enjoyment I hold now. To live any other way and be happy, for me, is impossible. Such is the way of things.

He makes me happy. He protects me from the darkness. To me that is all that is important right now, at this time in my life. That is all I need.