When I met him, I had no idea he would ultimately
change me forever, and make over two years of my life a whirlwind of emotions.
I met him on the
internet. Innocent. At the time, still not the most socially accepted way for
two people to meet and become something. Were we something? Maybe. It started
out with some texts here and there and stunningly developed into daily phone
conversations. Someone was interested in me. He liked me. He
noticed me. 30 miles away and he noticed me. We proceeded to a couple
video chats before finally meeting in person.
I invited him to
a party. May 21, 2014 . He wasn’t
sure if he was going to come because the person he was going to
bring bailed last minute. But then I got a call. So happy to see a call from him,
I shuffled far enough away from my friends so I could hear his voice. I
was upset he couldn’t celebrate with me but I was glad that he still thought to call me. It
was sweet. Then he said the two words that made my heart drop to the
ground.
Come outside.
I ran to gather my friends, squealed, and headed toward the front
yard where I saw an unfamiliar car parked a few houses down. I hurried toward
this stranger, trying to not seem so eager, even as my face blushed deep red
and my hands and voice quivered. We hugged the biggest hug. His arms
were wrapped around me so comfortably and my arms fit on his shoulders,
around his neck like puzzle pieces, as I forced my body up on my tippy
toes. I remember melting into that day. Feeling every feeling I have go numb
with excitement. We kissed for the first time that night. It started out as a
dare… and then we couldn’t let go. So quickly, I was addicted. Before he
left, I fell into his chest and felt his warmth on my hips, and
my arms, and my lips.
This was just the beginning.
It went well for quite
a while. We spent more and more time together. He didn’t live in the
area and he generously came to see me often. It was sort of a long drive
but he kept making it for me. I was wooed. But my closest friends felt
different - like maybe his intentions were not pure. They did not trust him
and I did everything I could to convince them that everything was okay and we
had feelings for each other. I was determined to get them to see they were
wrong about him. I became a frequent visitor at his house when he
moved to my city, laying my head on his chest as we drifted to sleep. I
enjoyed waking up to someone that enjoyed waking up to me. With a stiff neck,
sweaty hands, and tired eyes, I joined in every morning embrace.
One evening, he
snuck me in the house, keeping me silent to not alert his roommate that he
had a female visitor. It bothered me so much that I had to be a secret. Why did
I have to be a secret? I was shushed every time we heard his roommate
open his bedroom door to go downstairs. We were peaceful, laying together and
talking. But this time, one thing led to another. I shared my body completely.
At that moment, he had every part of me; emotionally, physically, and
spiritually. I wish I remember more about how it happened. All I remember is
reassurance and kisses. I liked reassurance and kisses. I was hesitant but I
did it. We did it. He was the one. He was the person I would talk
about in the future anytime someone asks me about my "first time." It
was perfect. We laid next to each other, half naked, dotted with sweat and out
of breath. Besides the sound of inhales and exhales slowly decreasing in depth,
it was silent. Until…
I'm sorry..
I paused and asked why as my heart started to flutter with
nervousness, uncertainty and confusion.
When I lost my virginity, her and I both lost it
to each other.
My first time was really special.
I'm sorry it couldn’t be that way for you.
A million thoughts rushed through my head. I was disappointed and
hurt. Every part of me didn’t want to feel like I wasted what should be one of
the most precious experiences in my life. I wanted to feel excited. A
milestone, passed. My three best girlfriends and I all had a pact: each of us
had to call the others when we lost our virginity and share the big news. I
wanted to feel excited. So I called. One at a time. The first one I called
squealed with enthusiasm paired with desperate requests for details. The second
friend also screamed and expressed how thrilled she was for me. The third one
gave a very different response. "Oh. I really want to be happy for you…but
I'm just not. I really don’t trust him."
I wanted to feel excited… but I didn’t.
Sex ultimately became
something that divided him and I, among many other things. I constantly would feel
like I was never good enough. He never told me so directly. I just felt
that if I was enough, he wouldn’t make excuses for reasons not to be
with me. The first time I accused him of taking a condom off in
the middle of sex, he got upset.
Wow, you ruined the moment!
And he left the room, leaving me sitting by myself. Guilty.
This happened a second time and his reaction was the same. I was a slave
to his affections and his attention and wanted nothing more than
for him to forgive me.
I have always been a
really emotional and sensitive person, so I was one of those people that always
wanted to talk about their feelings. I would sit with him and we would
talk about how much we meant to each other. I would ask why he didn’t want
to be with me. I was so confused. I never had a real relationship and I felt
like him and I was the closest thing I had to commitment. I didn’t
understand how we could have the interactions we did and the feelings weren’t
mutual. It was misleading. Kisses, cuddles, words. We openly talked. I listened
to him. He listened to me. One evening I was particularly
emotional. I was ready to tell him. We sat side by side on my couch and he
could tell I was hesitant. I was ready to say it. I felt it. My heart pounded
and I went back and forth in my head about seven times and I shook it off and I
took deep breaths and I was gonna do it! Then… in an instant regret, "…I
think, I love you." A wave of relief and fear shook over my body.
…No you don’t.
He sat, dumbfounded - couldn’t believe
I uttered the words and continued by generously adding that love is something
special and I would know it when I felt it. Why didn’t he think we had
something special? Why was I not special? We had a long talk, and through
tears, I sat there and listened to him say,
You're not the one for me.
After this, he
distanced himself. Pushed me away. For about a month and a half, he
disappeared. All of my calls and texts went unanswered. Every day I thought
about what it was that I did wrong. But I did my best to give him space. If he
wasn’t going to respond to me there was nothing I could do. Until one day, I
came home at around 2 a.m. from a party my coworker
invited me to. His car was in my driveway, and I could feel every system
in my body shut down. Nervously, I pulled up next to him in the
driveway, exited my car and walked toward his window. He was asleep.
The part of me that cared about him and was worried about him,
wanted me to get him out of the car, out of the cold, and inside the house.
Another part of me was angry and resentful. After completely shutting me out, he
thought he could just show up at my house and everything would be okay.
I was happy to see him though. We stayed up and talked until the sun
began to rise.
It had to be done.
He said that everything was happening
too quickly. We were spending a lot of time together and basically acting like
a couple. Sometimes he would surprise me with a call asking what to get
from the grocery store because we were going to make dinner together. We were
together almost every day. That became too much for him I guess. Because
I was vulnerable to his touch and soothing voice, I always forgot every
reason I was upset every time he came back to me.
For a long while, I was
living without a roommate. If I remember correctly, it was about nine months,
give or take. Having a big truck and an empty driveway, I never worried too
much about my parking. I had all the room in the world to park my '01 Dodge
Ram. I never told him this, and I don’t think he ever noticed,
but after the first time he left and vanished from my life, I started
parking on the left side of the driveway, leaving him the right, preparing for the days that he would hopefully come back to me.
We still had some type
of relationship for a while. Even when he moved back to his small
town, I made an effort to go see him. When we were still getting to know
each other in the beginning, he said something to me once.
I would love if a girl would make an effort to
drive to see me.
I never forgot that he said that. I wanted to be that girl.
I wanted him to love me. So I did it. I drove to go see him. February 9, 2016 . Seven days after my 20th birthday and I never got a "Happy
Birthday" from him. It wasn’t that important really. I just knew
that he didn’t remember the date. I remembered his. From the
moment he told me during one late night phone call, I never forgot.
March 5. Because we lacked a place to feel comfortable staying in overnight, we
went to the Motel 6 just outside of town. We spent our time there instead of
walking around and exploring in the snow. We went to the grocery store, Stater Bros., just
a few blocks away, to get some snacks for the room. I got Hershey's Kisses. As
we walked to check out, he noticed some familiar faces working at the
register. I was told to act like we didn’t know each other so they wouldn’t
assume that we were together. For the first time in my life, I literally felt invisible. I
went along with it though. I pretended like we came separate. I stood a
comfortable distance away, as I would if a stranger was in front of me. I felt
kind of disgusting. I was ashamed and embarrassed, not just because he
was so worried about what people would say, but that I let it happen and didn’t
stand up for myself. They were not fooled though, and still asked him if I was
his girlfriend. I was still going along with the plan; I avoided eye contact,
tuned out all conversation and paid for my bag of Hershey’s Kisses. He
felt the need to inform me of the giant burden of him having to explain that we were just friends. He admitted to me on a few occasions the reason he
tried to keep me separate from his friends and his other life.
I don’t want people to talk.
As if I meant nothing to him. When we got back to the room,
we ordered a pizza and he played video games while I watched. I wanted his
attention on me. I started kissing and touching him in ways I knew he
liked, forming goosebumps all over his body. He eventually was
distracted enough to put the controller down and turn the console off. It was
intimate and exciting. We knew each other's bodies very well which made
every experience much more intense. I was getting tired though and my legs were
feeling sore. He may have felt like I rushed him, which was not
my intention. That’s when I realized. He really did it this time. He removed the only thing that
still created a barrier between the two of us. The one thing separating trust
and betrayal. When he took off the condom, I knew it. But I froze. I had no say in the violation of my body because he did it
in secret. I stood there speechless. I looked at him speechless. I laid
there… speechless. The smell of latex and sweat filled the room as he
took one final bite of pizza. Unaware of my realization, he
snuggled close to my clothed body as we fell asleep. I really didn't think I had anywhere to escape to. It was the middle of the night and I was trapped on top of a snow-filled mountain. I was not close enough to home to leave. I felt stuck and confused. The next day after we
parted ways and I drove far from where the nightmare happened, behind the wheel
deep in thought, I came to the conclusion that I needed to try to rid him from
my life. I said in a long text message that I knew what he did and I was
really hurt. He tried to apologize the next day but my reply went
unanswered. He disappeared for another month and came back to me once again to talk
and apologize. I hung on to every word and once again, forgot about all the
reasons I was angry and just wanted to hug him again.
But it would never be the same.
For another year, we
both went back and forth playing the worst games with each other. He was
always flaky but that characteristic became so much more prevalent. We both didn’t
want to be together but we couldn’t fight temptation to be in each others'
company. Intimacy was not the same. I lost all of the trust I had for him
but my intense desire for him made it seem like I forgave and forgot.
Throughout our
relationship, I became everything to him in the least meaningful ways. I
confused his ability to take advantage with reliance and dependence. I
did so much for him. I would lend him small amounts of money
every once in awhile. I gave him rides when his car failed (and
it often did). I rescued him when he was stranded with his car,
needing a jump-start. I helped him with his homework. Even when he
just wanted a late night companion, I was there to cuddle with him. When
he called me for help, he knew I would come running. I hated that
he had that power over me. He knew how to manipulate me and I
hated that I let him. He would tell me that he didn’t even
understand his feelings for me. He longed for my companionship
and my touch and he craved my skin. He had feelings for me. In his
own little way, he did.
I'm sorry I'm attracted to you and I can't let
you go.
We can't keep doing this.
Fuck, I can't even touch you without feeling
like shit.
Don’t call me anymore.
I laid there on the bed across from his and cried. He
seemed angry and it seemed final. I was still pining for him and
asked if I could just lay with him. He said yes. We slept next to
each other, providing a familiar warmth to the sheets. We were falling apart
and we could both feel that whatever we had, was destructively coming to an
end. We were drowning.
I drove to him one last time. March 10, 2017 . He had
just turned 21! I wanted to celebrate with him. When I arrived at his house, his
sister let me in and I walked up to his room - a place I never thought I
would see. He forced me to tell him how I felt one last time and
what I expected out of our relationship. I was ready to be over it. I spent a
year being consumed with recurring negative thoughts of disloyalty. I was ready
to move on and put it all behind us. Once I admitted those feelings out loud to
the two of us, it was as if I could literally feel a burden being lifted off my
shoulders and I felt many pounds lighter. I was suddenly feeling free from the shackles
I was locked in since I first felt his kiss. The kiss on this day was
much different, and like most of the other times, not to sound so repetitive
and cliché, one thing led to another.
Do I still have to use a condom.
This made me angry. I should have stormed out and made a scene. Looking back, I don't know why I didn't. He knew what the answer would be before he
asked it. He probably just wanted to see if I would "YOLO" it. Yes, we did it. But it was awkward. I was suddenly being touched
by a stranger. It felt cold somehow, lifeless. Casually we threw our clothes
back on, I brushed my hair with my fingers and we left to fill our empty
bellies. Once we got food, we headed somewhere very close to eat. We taunted
birds with our scraps and I sat there in fear, feeling all their eyes locked on
me. Like I said, he just turned 21. I was hoping to spend one more night with him, enjoying ourselves as 21 year olds. We sat in
the car at a local park and talked and drank a little alcohol. It was mutually decided that I would go
home after this. I had a long drive and I didn’t want to do it in the
dark. So we said our goodbyes. I followed the pavement through its curves and hills as I left him.
I said goodbye to a two and a half year chapter of my life. Just like that.
The scary thing now, about having documented it all, even when I
forget all the little details, years from now, when it hopefully doesn’t affect
me anymore, I know someday I will stumble across this essay, forcing me to
relive a disaster.
Why did I stay? It’s hard
to say. As much as I hurt and felt like I knew I would be better without him,
there was some part of me that said I would regret it if I left.
I always thought he didn't care enough to notice anything about me. The one time he irritated me by saying,
I always thought he didn't care enough to notice anything about me. The one time he irritated me by saying,
That would look better with
shorts,
I forgot about the times he was able to describe my outfit
from the day before, from my earrings all the way down to my shoelaces and
remind me I looked beautiful. He could even describe the inside of my
house, and he remembered which room was what and could recite to me at
least one memory we had in each of those rooms. He brought me flowers
once. A beautiful bouquet of flowers and raspberry cheesecake ice cream. We sat
together and enjoyed this exotic flavor. We were close. We were close the day
we laid in his bed, both in tears, opening our hearts to each other and
talking about our fears and struggles in life. Vulnerable. We were close. When he
asked me on our first date, I was ecstatic. It was something I was waiting
for for about a year. We sat in the nicest restaurant our town had to offer and
we talked and laughed. When he wanted to lean into the table to kiss me,
I hesitated and told him it was because I knew he would pull away
to trick me. He promised he wouldn't. And he didn't. We kissed.
In public. I was swooning. With both of us dressed in our best, I had an
amazing time. He even came to visit me before his prom. He left
his friends to see me and show me how sharp he looked. It was
real. There was passion. One time, him and I kissed so deeply, slow and
gentle, as he leaned me against the side of his car with his hands
through my hair. My legs were around his hips, my heart was pounding,
and my phone was ringing. I was supposed to be home earlier but was hypnotized by his grip. Sometimes he would just stare at me, silent, with the slightest smile
and longest gaze, and I begged for him to say words.
You’re beautiful.
Why did I
stay? That's why. Because no matter how much he hurt me, I remembered
how sweet and thoughtful he could be, and how he could make
me smile. I liked what we had the potential to be. Even after I would get
emotional and clingy, he came back. And I didn't think most guys
would go back to someone that they knew would get attached. My friends thought
it was just for sex. That was the only answer. They were wrong. Even
though he made me feel my worst, he also made me feel my
best. I thought there was no way I could find something better.
Why did I
stay? I wanted him to love me. He felt at least a little of
what I felt, he just showed it in a very different way. I wanted to
be the girl he saw when he looked into my eyes. I couldn't
be what he wanted and he couldn't be what I
wanted. He was right… I was not the one for him. Potential magic
led to a flood of mistakes on both sides, but we will forever share something
deep that will not be forgotten.
Eventually I accepted that it was over between us and that it was okay, and that I was okay. And I can feel myself letting go more completely. It took time and distance to see just the kind of situation I
put myself in - trying so hard to trust someone that I didn't, to change someone that wouldn't, and justifying
our behavior. We were toxic. I'll never forget, but I forgive us both.
I am okay.
I am free...
Comments
Post a Comment