FCYU-Feature Story

Loving and Losing
My first girlfriend made my life a little brighter.

By Anonymous

(Names have been changed.)

The start of my first year in junior high school: new school, new people. I wasn’t exactly the guy who shook hands and tried to make friends. I was depressed because my mother had recently broken my heart again. She had told me I would be able to go home before school started, and there I was, still in care. I was the guy in the back of the classroom watching everyone else have fun. I had low self-esteem and I felt that everything was wrong with me.

The only person I could relate to was my cousin Brian. He was also in care and struggling, but the way he handled his situation was by smoking weed. I’d started smoking with him when I was about 11. That’s how I dealt with my depression about being away from my family. In school, I just kept to myself and did my work.

A Beautiful Girl

One day our class was watching a movie in which the main character’s life seemed perfect. I looked down at the ground and whispered to myself, “If only my life were that perfect.” Then I heard a soft voice say, “Tell me about it.”

It was the girl next to me. Her hair was curly and her eyes were a seductive hazel. She was beautiful. She asked me why I said that, but I didn’t answer. She told me that it was OK to trust her, but my trust wasn’t easy to gain.

At lunch the next period, I sat at my usual spot, alone by the window in the back of the cafeteria. I was sticking my spork into my mash-volcano when I felt the table shift slightly. I looked up and saw the same girl from class. “Uh-oh,” I thought, “attempt number two.”

I was nervous about talking to a pretty girl. My heart was beating like a wild drum, and when she sat down it stopped and hit the floor. I opened my mouth, trying to form a sentence, but nothing came out. Then the bell rang.

Finally, in the hallway, she pulled me aside and said, “Hi my name is Katy Rodriguez.”

I stuttered and finally said, “My name is Angel.” She seemed relieved to hear me say something.

The next day I saw Katy in the lunchroom. I approached her and I was the one who said hi first. She looked surprised, but then she smiled and we walked to my table. We sat next to each other and talked about the things that 6th graders talk about: music, school gossip, TV shows, etc. From then on we ate lunch together every day.

Finding a Connection

One day she started to tell me about her life. Her father left her at birth, and her mother was controlling and abusive. She told me that sometimes she would cut herself, but not in places people would easily notice. “If people knew that I cut myself, they would think I’m crazy,” she said. “They just don’t understand.” Her eyes filled with tears.

I looked at her and said, “It’s OK. I understand where you’re coming from.” I said this because I did know, because I’d done that too, and I felt the same way she did about telling anyone about it.

I guess she felt better when she knew there was someone she could connect with, and I felt the same way. When you know you’re not the only one, you get this shared feeling of security. In the 45 minutes that she had been talking I felt like I knew everything about her. For the first time in a while, I knew I had a friend.

That day at lunch, I decided I was going to tell Katy about my life. I never talked to anyone about my situation because I knew what they would think. I knew that to other people, being in foster care was like having a contagious disease; they wouldn’t want to be next to me. I would have been made fun of and laughed at. But Katy felt different. She had confided in me, and it was my turn to do the same.

A Burden Lifted

I was already at the table when she came and sat next to me. I said, “Katy, I think it’s time I told you about my life.” She looked happy. I guess she knew how hard it was for me because I kept taking long pauses, but she was patient.

I had never known anyone who would sit there and listen except my therapist, and she was getting paid to do it. I told Katy about being in care, my family, my mom, my reasons for depression, cutting school, cutting myself and using drugs. When I was done, she looked at me and said, “Wow, the impression you give people is way different from what really goes on in your life.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied. My eyes were watery, and she hugged me. I felt loved, and so relieved that I was able to express myself, and that she knew what it was like. A huge burden was lifted off my back that day.

My First Kiss

One afternoon in June, a few months after we met, I asked Katy out. She said yes and it was the happiest moment in my life. I walked her to the bus stop and we held hands. Then she looked at me, smiled and kissed me. It wasn’t the peck on the cheek I was expecting; it was my first real kiss. That day I went home with a smile on my face. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven.

The school year ended so I had to wait another long, stuck-in-the-house summer to see my beautiful baby. Katy was at camp, so I couldn’t see her or talk to her. But the good part was I spent most of my time at my sister’s house.

To wake up in the same house as my family brought back good memories and made me think about how much I missed them. At any point in the day, from a.m. to p.m., we were always laughing and having a good time. The worst part was leaving.

Back to the Bad Feelings

Seventh grade started off OK. I knew some people who said hi to me when they saw me, and I was happy to be with Katy again. But I was really angry that summer had ended and that once again I was limited to seeing my siblings every weekend. I got even more depressed when my mom told me I’d be going home to her in October, and then it never happened.

During the summer my smoking habit had died down a little, but now that the stress and bad feelings were back, I started up again, and it quickly became a problem.

I was smoking at least three times a day and skipping my afterschool program. Whenever I started to feel bad about what I was doing, I’d already have another blunt in my hand, washing away the thought as if it had never occurred. I came into school high one day. Katy knew what was going on, and she said she had to talk to me.

Katy Intervenes

At lunch, she dragged me to the staircase and said, “What the f—k do you think you’re doing? You can’t come to school high.”

“Well, maybe I needed to get away from the world,” I replied.

“And you do that by smoking weed, right? Why don’t you get involved in something and stop using little kid excuses.”

I stood shut. I knew she was right. We stood there until a teacher came through the door and told us to go to the lunchroom. Katy looked me in the face and said, “I’m disgusted with you, Angel.” Then she walked away.

I understood why she was mad. I’d messed up and I was sorry. But for the rest of the day, whenever I tried to talk to her she’d say, “Are you still high?”

I decided that I needed to stop smoking if I wanted to keep my girl. I asked her the next day to help me stop smoking. She said, “Maybe you should get involved in sports?” So I joined the school basketball team. It got my mind partly off of the drugs, but the craving was always there.

I often found myself around my cousin, and when he would look at me and pass the blunt, it was always tempting, but I’d refuse and he always got tight. It was hard because I felt like he only wanted me to hang with him to smoke, and he was supposed to be family. Soon after I stopped smoking, our relationship dissolved.

A Special Bond

Luckily, I still had Katy. Our relationship was on a very high level. She even came along on an unsupervised visit I had with my mom, and my mom loved her. I also went over to her house sometimes and had dinner with her family.

We chilled after school almost every day. On most weekends, we would go to the movies or the park, or find a place to hang out and spend the entire day together. At the end of the day, I would walk her home and think about the next day I’d get to spend with her.

Katy and I were at a stage where we could finish each other’s sentences and we always knew if the other person was lying about something. She knew my thoughts exactly, and when I was upset she’d tell me to think of ponies and rainbows. It was a little funny actually.

I knew she was right and I couldn’t say, “You don’t know what I’m going through,” because she did know. This bond that had grown between us felt impenetrable; it was something I’d never had before except with my family.

When basketball season ended I once again needed something to occupy my time besides Katy. My mind went straight to my old ways, and she knew, so she had me call her almost every hour to make sure I wasn’t high. I was on lockdown, and it worked. I knew if I wanted to stay with my baby I had to control myself. Whenever I felt depressed, I would think about Katy and write poetry.

Losing My Girl

Towards the end of 8th grade, Katy told me she was moving to Florida, and we had to break up. I cried a lot, because I was losing the best thing that had ever happened to me. I felt like I’d never see her again.

I told her how I felt, and we scheduled a day to meet at our old junior high school. April 8, 2017. We swore to each other that we would meet on this date, and I know I will be there. Hopefully she will be too.

Katy cracked my anti-social shell and opened me up to an unseen world. Once we were able to trust one another, the trust we could give to other people grew. She helped me with my drug issue, and I helped her out at home. One day she told me, “I felt like I was blind from birth, and then one day, I was able to see the world for the first time.”

It’s been a year now since she moved, and these days I reach out to other people a lot more. I can make friends by just being myself. It’s easier to talk to people and tell them about my life now because I realize they might be going through something similar.

I can give them some advice, or I can listen to pieces of their lives and they can share their knowledge. Or maybe I can just let them in on what it’s like to be in foster care. When I tell people I’m in care it’s funny to see their jaws drop in surprise.

When Katy left, it was hard for me. I still talk to her. We tell each other how much we miss each other, and that we can’t wait to see each other again. We bring up old memories and reminisce. I do miss her a lot, but I really can’t do anything except hope that time passes by as quickly as possible.

I often find myself feeling depressed, but there’s no cure for that. Katy was the person who made my life seem a little better. When my day sucked, looking at her filled me up with joy. She was the only person there to listen and care. She is the girl I loved, and lost.