OVERDRAMATIC 1

Harley Burgess
Salyers
September 21, 2014


Overdramatic
The air was crisp and fresh, the stadium parking lot smelled like popcorn, and my heart
was beating furiously within my chest. I wiped my palms against my jeans to rid them of the
sweat that had collected during the short, fifteen minute drive. My grandmother leaned over the
median that rests between the two front seats of our hand-me-down, champagne-colored Buick
and told me to call, eat, not talk to strangers, and everything else that would be expected. Like a
typical girl of fifteen, I rolled my eyes, shut the door, and waved goodbye before turning to face
the ticket booth.
I couldnt seem to shake the feeling within my gut as I purchased my five dollar ticket
and entered my new high schools football stadium. Panic began to set in as my eyes darted
across the crowd, searching frantically. My hand reached for my phone instinctively and I
checked to make sure that I had gotten the date, time, and intention correct. I hadnt seen this
guy in over three months; mistakes were completely possible! What if this was the wrong game?
What if he didnt want me here at all?
Air rushed into my lungs as I glanced upward and made eye contact with the most
wonderful specimen my teenage eyes had ever had the opportunity to take in. He was a football
player, only on the junior varsity team, but a star all the same. His shoulders were broad and his
hair was cut short, something that I hadnt quite been expecting; despite my shock, buzzed hair
suited his face and made him appear to be much more fierce and mature. A nervous grin spread
across my face and I nervously waved. He didnt notice.
Slightly embarrassed, I looked around to make sure that no one had noticed my mistake.
I put on my best, most adoring smile and sauntered up to the circle of friends that surrounded
him; they were all making perverse jokes and laughing far too loudly, even for an outdoor event.
As cliche as it may have appeared to be, I cleared my throat and one of his friends, whose name I
forget, turned to me and grinned.
Oh, Chandler, how rude! Not even saying hello to your

OVERDRAMATIC 2
Clearly, he was at a loss for words, or confused about one specific word. That did not
surprise me.
Girlfriend. His girlfriend. I stepped through the middle of the group and latched on to
his arm. Vaguely, I remember that he smelled amazing in a comforting and familiar way.
Before I had the opportunity to tell my boyfriend about my summer, ask him about his
trip to Puerto Rico, or even greet him properly with a hi or hello, his friends had caught his
attention again. At that point, I didnt care very much about who he was talking to or where his
mind had wandered. My clearest, most concentrated thought was on my arm in his and that
glorious, warm smell.

I often lie awake at night, wondering why I never questioned any part of our relationship.
I often wonder how I never noticed the fact that he would ignore me around his friends and
ignore my phone calls when he didnt feel like talking. How blind and stupid I must have been
to never realize that the voices in the background of our angry phone calls were female and that
his family often looked at me sympathetically, like an injured animal.
No matter how much I ponder and lie awake at night, I can never save my younger self
from the events that passed only two years after that seemingly joy-filled varsity football game. I
can never save my silly, naive, sixteen-year-old psyche from the tears and emotional scarring. All
of my heavy, deep contemplation can not change the fact that I was thoroughly and severely
abused by the one voice that I longed to hear most in the world; the one person that I would
have confidently and obediently died for. I can only hope that my experience can encourage
other young, lonely girls from traveling the same path.

Fast forward one year and eleven months. Spring break was knocking on my door and I
was more anxious than ever. Chandler was packed and ready to go on his week-long retreat to
the National Beta Convention, something that I knew he enjoyed. The night before he left, I told
him about my apprehension. I told him that I trusted him, but I couldnt get over the thought
that something could happen. He laughed at me and told me I had nothing to worry about. In
fact, he seemed relatively annoyed that I would even bring it up. So, sniffing back tears, I
watched him walk out of my living room and drive away in his big, ruby-red Jeep.
Three days later, I was reading in bed and texting my loving, wonderful boyfriend when I
received a routine text that would turn out to be far more important than I could ever imagine.
Chandler would be attending a short meeting and, after that, he would call me immediately. He
promised. The whole thing would only take two hours, tops. I texted back and told him that I

OVERDRAMATIC 3
would be waiting; I even included a smiley face, more for my benefit than for his. Two hours
passed, and then three. Originally, I wasnt too worried. Maybe he had gotten held up by an
overzealous secretary or his mom was making sure he looked good for the dance.
The realization hit me like a sledgehammer and I felt suddenly dizzy for no reason at all.
It really is amazing, how trivial things like pimples, frizzy hair, and realizing that my boyfriend
could be dancing the night away with some random girl from Charleston, who is also much
prettier and more successful than me, can truly, make my, or anyone elses, teenage brain
explode. At this point, it was 10:00 pm and I was in full panic-mode. I began calling ceaselessly,
a dozen or two dozen times. My mind wandered miles away from my original hypothesis. What
if he was dead in a ditch, stabbed by some psychopathic murderer? What if his bus had exploded
on the highway, sending chunks of my beloved Chandler in the sky and across the ground? Tears
began streaming, uncontrollably, down my face.
This may all seem very dramatic, but one must take into consideration the fact that this
guy was my life. He was the air in my lungs, the blood in my veins, and everything that I had
ever wanted. We were going to get married and have babies and own dogs together. It was pretty
much a huge deal. More importantly was the fact that I was completely and utterly devoted to
him. I was worthless without him. He made sure to remind me of that every day.
On the thirtieth call, he answered the phone.
What do you want?
At that point, I should have been furious, but all I could feel was relief.
Oh my gosh, I thought you were dead or injured or missing or whatever. It doesnt
matter now, as long as youre safe and okay. I was the picture of a devoted housewife, only
without the ring.
Wow. Cant I just have fun without you bothering me constantly?
I I was just worried about you. You said you would call me back and its been nearly
six hours. At this point, the tears began streaming furiously, as they usually did.
Since when do I have to always talk to you? Jesus, Harley, Im not doing this right now.
My friends are looking at me like Im a huge idiot. I have to go.
Before I could reply I heard a chorus of shouts and obscenities fly from somewhere in the
room. This had evolved to a new level of embarrassing and mortifying for me, and my hysteria
was made public at that point. What are you saying, Chandler?
Im saying that I dont want to be with you anymore. You nag me too much.

OVERDRAMATIC 4
My heart sank to the floor and Im almost positive that my brain ruptured into a jiggly,
nonfunctional pile of gray goo. Almost immediately, I began sobbing uncontrollably. However,
this did nothing to stop what I knew would be coming next.
Oh my God, please stop, you pathetic little girl. What? You cant stand not getting what
you want? Whats wrong? Have I broken your heart? Are you lost without me? Well, you should
be because I am all you have. I am your rock, your cornerstone. Without me you are absolutely
nothing. Oh, go ahead and cry, I dont care. Ive heard it enough. What was that? You cant live
without me? You are so overdramatic. Well, good, pig, I hope I see you on the news tomorrow
morning. That would be so tragic. God, I wish I had never met you. Ive always lied to you,
saying that I loved you and telling you all those pretty, adorable things. Oh, please. You never
would put out anyway.
Amidst my sobbing and his torture tactics, I managed to choke out one word. Why?
At this, he began laughing. Why? Oh, wouldnt you like to know?
His friends, still in the room, laughed even louder and began shouting the names of girls
that I knew Chandler had spent time with.
Oh, fine, Ill tell you. Its Claire. Ive been with Claire all night and, let me tell you, she is
so much better than you on so many levels. Shes just so hot and I think I think Im in love.

This torment continued for several hours, into the morning. Finally, when I actually
began asking questions and talking back, he hung up on me. I collapsed into sobs on my bed and
hugged my pillow tight against my aching chest. It was difficult for me to breathe. What was I
going to do? I couldnt live life without him. To me, he was absolutely correct in saying that he
was all that I had. After hearing all of those things for nearly two years, I had grown to believe
them whole heartedly.
When my sobbing partially subsided, I decided to go online and seek help. I knew I
couldnt continue like that and I had enough common sense to know that self-harm was a real
and dangerous threat to me at that moment. While online, searching for phrases like suicide
prevention and how to be happy, I heard the distinct bloop of a new Skype message. I opened
the window and, to my amazement, my friend Brad had just messaged me.
Heyo, Gerbil! Whyre you up so late?
I only contemplated for a few seconds before determining that he was the lifeline that I
had been searching for. Can you call me?


OVERDRAMATIC 5
What followed was the three-hour long conversation that led me to a new and startling
conclusion: my ex-boyfriend had been verbally abusing me for nearly two years and this abuse
had led to severe separation anxiety and depression. Brad talked me out of my more permanent
solutions and encouraged me to seek counseling. Twenty lost pounds, several counseling
sessions, and one adorable guinea pig later, I had finally come to grips with the fact that I was
my own person. It took four months for me to fully recover from my abuse and the constant
night terrors, along with gaining back the weight that I had lost.
Every little girl deserves a knight in shining armor. She does not deserve a knight that
will use his own sword against her, or one that would rather lock her up in the tower of her own
mind than set her free to be herself. Physical pain is not the only sign of an abusive partner,
fianc, or husband. Often, abusive partners will seek out the areas of your psyche that are the
most fragile; they target your self-esteem, the way you look, the way you dress, and the people
you choose as your friends. Be constantly aware of your own happiness because, trust me, no
man is ever worth losing yourself over.