During freshman year band practice I developed a crush on a boy (Ken). He was tall and funny and had the prettiest blue eyes. I told all my friends and swore them into secrecy. When the school year started I had it bad for this boy who had no clue I cared. Being the shy nerdy girl I watched as he went through to girlfriends and breakups before I let my friend tell him how I felt and we got together. My first boyfriend. Things were great to start. We would hold hands down the hall and he made me blush with girlish glee. Then I decided to initiate a kiss waiting for the bus to go home. The next day we were in the band room and he was asking when could we kiss for longer? "I don't know!" I remember blushing. After a few minutes we were kissing for longer. After a weeks days he was touching places I had never imagined. My friends started to complain that I was different. And I was. He didn't like my friends so I started to distance myself. Whenever my friends tried to talk to me he was there. To be fair I didn't mind. First love is so blinding. A year went by and I hardly spoke to anyone besides him. He also spoke to really only me. Something shifted. A boy (call him Tom) arrived on the scene. He was sad and suffering from heartbreak and originally things were innocent. When Ken saw us talking he mentioned later that I would probably date him if I had the chance. It made me feel strange and eventually Ken convinced me to try dating both of them. It was awful being on the fence between two and eventually I broke it off with Tom when Ken suggested that he date another girl (Tina). Later he admitted that to be his goal and that Tina had snuck to his at night and fooled around but not after she told me herself much later. For awhile things were good again. Then the next year he wanted a break so he could explore his affections for another girl (Callie). It lasted for about a few weeks and never developed into anything because she was already dating someone else (although she was unhappy). I happily took him back when he came. By this time Ken's school focus had dropped. I had to beg him to keep up with his schoolwork and oftentimes in arguments he wouldn't allow me to do my own work. By senior year he had lost all interest. I begged and begged and he continued to miss school. Tearfully I made a deal- if he would pass and graduate and make an effort in school then I would do anything he told me to whenever he wanted me to until graduation. And so it became the most miserable year of my life. With his newfound power over me he told me not to do essays and instead talk to him. He commanded that I tie his shoes, put up his lunch tray, and sit on his lap almost daily regardless of who at school saw. Another change started. We had discussed moving out for a year or so but I had never put any real thought into it. However he was serious. By December he had me searching for apartments in newspapers for us for immediately after graduation. At the same time and ex called for help (Tiffany). She needed help getting out of her abusive husband's home and across states to her friends house. So with my reluctant permission Ken snuck out and drove for almost a full night to pick up her friend (3 hours away), drive the friend to Tiffany (2 more hours), and then drive them both to the friend's house. After mission was accomplished he texted with Tiffany more and more and relayed to me that he had a love for her and he didn't know what to do. He wanted another break even though she had expressed a certain indifference to him. Again during the school week he drove down to see her. Nothing happened and after that she slowly stopped texted him. He was heartsick for awhile but I was there to comfort him and after a few more days he came back to me confused but hating Tiffany's guts for the way she treated him. After a while talk of moving out came back and I set to the task of avoiding telling my parents while searching for weeks. A month before graduation I told my parents and it was the most painful thing I have done to this day. I knew it was not a wise decision as did they. The only reason I was going along with it was fear. I was afraid that if I left Ken to his own devices then he would fall for some other girl. Not to mention it seemed like a good way to gain some independence. We moved out the night of graduation into an apartment with Ken's older brother (Harry-27) for a six-month lease. I had my mind set that this was a trial run and now that the deal Ken came up with was over things would be better. They were not. Now Ken had the satisfaction of being my only transportation anywhere. He had the only car of the three of us and we had moved 40 minutes away from my family. Arguments arose of the silliest of things. I touched his phone-how many times had he told me not to do that-how hard is it to just leave it alone?! If they happened while we were in the car he would scream at me and keep me from exiting the vehicle until I conceded that he was right or I started crying. If it happened at the apartment he would pin me to the bed by my wrists and berate me inches from my face. If we were on the couch and I wouldn't look him in the eyes he would grab me by my hair and yank my face up so he could see me. Finally after one particularly bad argument in the car something broke. He wouldn't let me out for class because lo-and-behold I had picked up his phone and put it in my pocket so he wouldn't have to go searching for it. He screamed at me and circled and circled and I told him that our argument was stupid. The phone was stupid. When he finally calmed down and turned into the school parking lot I started to cry. "I just want to go home," was the mantra going through my head and it popped out my mouth. I remember Ken consoling me and apologizing. I remember him asking if "we were okay?" I didn't say a word. All day long I cried in between classes. I used the internet to google break ups. I even arranged for my mom to pick me up from school and take me to where he worked. In the end you know what happened? Ken begged. He looked me in the eyes and told me all day long he had thought about the way he had been treating me and it made him feel sick. He told me if I didn't move home he could prove to me he was changed. So I stayed. He behaved changed but I still didn't trust him. He opened doors and called me princess and even cried in bed that night saying how his parents would be so ashamed if they knew what he had done to me. The next day I started asking what if? What if I moved home? What would you do? Over dinner he became moody and quiet. In the car he told me how much it hurt him to hear me say that when he was trying so hard and all I was doing was talking about what if I left anyways. The words coming from his mouth were "Are you going to stay or move home? Are you going to make me sleep alone?" After an hour of these guilt filled words I told him I was going to stay. I swore it. I regretted it hours later. Not due to anything he did. I regretted it because I did not want to stay. I wanted to go home to my family. To my dad who had been recently diagnosed with Parkinson's. To my brother who just started high school. To my mom. I wanted to have money and three meals a day. I wanted to feel like I could trust my ride to take me to where I needed to be and not force me to be late. I wanted to wake up in a house that was clean and had dishes in the cabinet and clothes in the closet. I wanted home. That brings us to today. Two days after the promise. I want to go home passionately except whenever I look into his eyes. When I see him everything bad fades away just as it always has. Writing this has given me insight though. Every year it is something. I cry but I forgive thinking that we can work through it and that I have put so much work into to this to let it fail. We stay together. It happens again. I have silent for so long that I don't know what to do. My parents say they want me to be happy. I want to be happy. I feel my heart is just too big. If I move home he will have to move home into a house that has no room for him. His brother will have to find a different home or simply go homeless... again. Ken refuses to live with his brother if I am not there. He is not the only one at fault. I know I essentially cheated on him with Tom. I know I should have stopped touching his phone. I should have gotten a license so I could drive myself places. I find myself wondering if that would have really changed anything though. He could have just as easily kept the keys from me. My view on his has changed and I discovered something. I am so tired of crying.