Late summer 2013, somewhere in the wine country of Northern California.
He’s asked me several times if he was the cause. The reason I went mad. I say no, it was going to happen anyway. It would have been triggered by something or somebody else. Plus work was stressful too. I know deep down though, he broke my heart and it really hurt.
He was my dream. A firefighting cowboy with a lone wolf spirit, he did man things. Cut down trees, made wine, surfed, he drove a big truck. He was smart, sexy, he made me laugh and had serious swag. He did what he wanted, all the time. .
The night we met he put me on his dirt bike. He drove away from the party and into a clearing on the vast Sonoma property. The stars beamed brighter than I had seen in forever. He talked but I don’t remember what about, I was drinking in the magic of the moment. And when he pulled me close, my heart beat stronger.
That night he warned me to be careful, he’s trouble. I bantered back, well so am I. We were hooked. He took me on dates and adventures, it was all so fun. Soon enough though I wanted a relationship and he wouldn’t commit…. No doubt I was already acting strange and he could see something was wrong. .
The following months leading to my psychotic break I tried, but I couldn’t move on. I thought I knew what love was. I thought he loved me. I split in half. I was emotionally unequipped for this deep disappointment and drowned in grief.
Unrequited love is hard for anyone, but for an untreated and unstable me, the stress amplified beyond what my mind and body could physically withstand. I don’t blame him. He’s not the guy for me and it’s not his fault I was sick. Truth be told he inspired me. It was so hard at the time, but to this day I still follow his advice and live a little like a cowboy… confident, finding joy in my passions, doing the things I want to do.
I am simultaneously happy I experienced the joy I felt with him and content with letting it go. What other choice do I have?
Julia Lives Bipolar 
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