Hi everyone; I'm way new to this whole Schizophrenia thing, I'm hoping at least one person can read what I expect to be pretty much a novel and perhaps try to help out because this is a pretty hard time.

For around a year and a half, I was in a very serious relationship with a boy; despite the length of our time together, we had even been talking about marriage. He had mentioned previously that he had had Schizophrenia when he was younger (diagnosed some time between twelve and fifteen, I'd say; never got the exact date), but because he shrugged it off and I didn't understand much about it, I shrugged as well.

Progressively, our relationship started to completely deteriorate to the point where I knew something was wrong, but couldn't quite put my finger on it. We'd get in fights where I'd be so frustrated with his arguments (that absolutely made no sense at all, mind you) that he'd claim that I was Bi-Polar and that I needed to see a doctor.

Fast-forward to a bit over a month ago, where we completely fell apart. It ended in a short phone conversation in which I said I wanted to go on a break and he completely shrugged me off about the whole thing. I resolved to never talk to him again, even, didn't even call him to tell him the break was permanent because I knew he'd twist it around. During the month while we were apart, I heard a lot of things he was saying about me, and for the sake of anyone reading, I'm not going to repeat the words he called me. Suffice it to say that they were pretty cruel.

Since then, we became reunited after a drunken phone call he made to me, telling me that he's never been this much of a mess in his life. Three days later, he contacted me to tell me that he realized that he still had the problem that he thought he had "overcome." Hebephrenic Schizophrenia. It's funny that the moment he told me that and I googled it, I might as well have seen his name in 18,200 sources.

We've slowly become more close through this past week; I'm helping him stay on track and he's seeing a therapist twice a week as well as taking Haloperidol. He continues to tell me that I'm the only one for him because I was the one that refused to let him screw everything up. When I left him, he realized that the problem was him, not everyone else.

Part of me really understands that he couldn't help all of the thing he did, and although I'll never forget the things he did, I almost forgive him. I hate to say this, but I love him still. He tells me that it's a lifetime of difficulties and an unfixable, yet manageable disease, and I want to be there for him. He has no problem with this; he's been begging me for over a week now but I told him that I need time. A lot of time; to think about the situation. At least six months, I said (I'm not sure if that's long or not, it just seemed reasonable). Most of my friends don't agree with my thoughts of getting back together with him, but I can't help but think that this can be managed. He's such a wonderful and great guy when he's not under the influence of that disease.

He's got what seems like unending willpower to battle this; is there any hope for us?