We all have a story to tell. We hit that "New Thread" button late at night and articulate the newest significant occurrence that has befallen us. We fall asleep... some of us still in the chair where we sat trying to put those moments into words. Some of us, soundly in our beds after retelling our most romantic, or happiest moments. Some of us go off to drive endlessly... trying to shake off whatever is hurting us so intently, only to fall asleep on the side of the road. We wake up... anxiously come back to the post, and take in all the words that others have so kindly replied to us with. And life... it goes on.
But so often, i have never taken the time to sit down and tell you about all the moments in-between those heart-wrenching times, those blissfully perfect times... was i afraid of being looked down on? scorned? laughed at? or was it just that i thought none of it really mattered? well, if you think about it, its those in-between moments that lead to all those significant ones. without them, there is no transition. there is no climax. no happy ending. there is just one moment after the next and nothing that led up to it. no story.
so, here is mine. here is my in-between. my story. and i'll begin it in high school.
* * *
When i was 17, i thought i was in love.
There was this boy named Timmy, and I don't really remember how I met him. Just that he was a "friend of a friend" and I remember the day we drove him home, and I got up all my courage to ask him to go to the semi-formal with me. He didn't even go to my school, and I can't remember if I was attracted to him or what... but I asked him, and he said yes. What grade was that, 10th or 11th? I dont remember. But i know that the reason I thought i was in love with him was because he was the first guy ever, that I couldn't seem to get over. And the more I tried to get him back, the more he didn't want to have anything to do with me. And it was my own fault he left me.... but I never admitted to anyone that what had happened was true. I think i lied to so many people about it that i started to believe it myself. But i was so ashamed, and so sorry, and regretted so badly what i had done. and i knew that admitting to it, would be the end. at least as long as there was doubt in his mind, there was hope. Boy, was I naive.
What had happened? Well, probably just what you are thinking. There was this other guy, Victor. He was one of those guys who was the most popular guy you could think of. He played all the sports, got the attention of all the girls. Could have anything he wanted. And did. I wasn't even attracted to him. But my best friend at the time, she was very much attracted to him. And it was weird, being jealous of her all the time. Because you're not supposed to be jealous of your best friend. But i was. She had everything I ever wanted, and didn't have. And she took it all for granted. And i wanted to be like her in every way. I wanted guys to look at me like they looked at her. I wanted to have her grades, her luxuries, her perfect face and perfect body. Her gorgeous hair. Her cheerleader, prom queen, miss-perfect life. And he was the one thing she didn't have but wanted. And I don't remember how the chance came upon me, but there we were... him and me in my red car. I thought i was taking him home from basketball, and following his directions, there we stopped, at a dead end. No houses in sight. And i knew then, that there was some other agenda here.
And you know what? I think i know he didn't really want anything more than sex. I should have known that, at least. But it was such a feeling of power... knowing that the guy that everyone wanted was here, in my car, putting his hands on me. It was me, winning, over all of them, over her, and it gave me such a rush. Here was the most popular guy in school, looking me in the eyes, about to kiss me. And here was me, about to throw away the guy i would continue to try to win back for years after, just because i couldn't say no to Victor. And was it everything i had hoped it would be? I had sex with him, in the front seat of my little red car, in broad daylight, in the middle of nowhere. And he would brag to his friends no sooner than I had dropped him off. And he wasn't bragging because i was this magnificent thing to be conquered... he was bragging because i was naive, and easily controlled... and i had fucked up. I think this is where the term being "screwed" came from. And i don't think he and i ever spoke again after that day. And my self-esteem had just about collapsed.
It didn't take long before all this got back to Timmy. And the look in his eyes was so disheartening, that i felt sick to my stomach. And what was worse, he couldn't even look me in the eye. I don't think he ever did after that day. And i was crying, and i kept insisting that nothing happened. But he never believed me. And i always said to myself that I would never ever cheat on someone ever again -- not because i lost the guy i cared for so much, but because i never wanted anyone to have that look in their eyes like he had, the day I broke his heart. And i kept going back to his house, even when he wasn't there. His mother was like a mother to me, and his family always welcomed me with open arms. Even after me and Timmy broke up, they still sent me Christmas cards, and his mother wrote me letters. When i visit my hometown, I always drive past his house. At Christmas they put up blue lights on the bushes. It still looks like home. But i dont go back there anymore. He gave me a ring a long time ago, and I never took it off. It was kind of like a reminder, of that year in my life. And now, it wont even come off. I put it on as a child, and my finger grew, and there it stays, mounted on my finger. People ask me where I got it, and I say I can't remember. But how can i ever really forget?
The situation blew over after much drama. I can't believe how many people I had to lie to. But the worst part of all of it was that I didn't have much respect for myself after it. I chalked it up as something foolish I did when I was young and vulnerable, but the truth is, I never forgave myself for that. But life sends you help getting over these things... and life sent me.... Anthony.
Anthony was a friend of Timmy's, although Timmy didn't really like him all that much. He just always seemed to be wherever his group of friends were. Anthony was the youngest of all of them. I thought he was 2 years younger than us, but a long time later, I found out that he was only 14 when I started seeing him. Anthony had a very dark, mysterious look to him. He had a way of charming the hell out of you. Still, he wasn't Timmy. And i knew he was trying to get with me, but i didn't realize he was using my vulnerability to his advantage. I remember the day we drove out to the strip mines together, and i wanted to commit suicide. That was the day i should have realized just what an asshole he was... since he even offered to push me if i couldn't go through with it. What was his strategy that day, i wonder now? But we ended up back at his house, me sobbing in his arms, and him, lighting the tip of the picture of me and Timmy at the Semi with a Bic lighter, and watching my dreams go up in flames. And he didn't waste any time moving in on that heartbroken moment -- it was the first time he kissed me. And it marked a year in my life that i wish I could erase completely.
I gave in to him. He seemed like a decent alternative to being lonely, and I forced myself to like him. There wasn't much good about him, when I think back. I was charmed by him, yes. He was intriguing to me, because up until then, i had been this miss goody-two-shoes and innocent and prissy. And here was this guy who broke every rule i knew. And he wanted me. And i wanted a part of his world. And i knew he could make me forget Timmy, and everything that happened. I never knew what it would cost me.
His charm wasn't his only personality. He had a mean side, that i had never seen while just hanging out at the pizza parlor with him, or at the football games. When he didn't get his way, he got violent. I was terrified of him at times. His room was on the second floor of this house on Winter's Ave. The bottom floor was an Italian restaurant that his father used to own, which was now closed. His father, i later found out, was part of the Mafia. And it was no wonder where he got his mean streak from. His father scared me even more. I used to stay at Anthony's house a lot. I told my parents I was out with friends, and I would sit in his room which smelled like stale cigarettes and learned to listen to rap music and dammit, i cant remember anything else we really did there, aside from having sex. And we had sex whenever he wanted. There was no other way. And when i didn't want to, that was when i got to huddle in a corner and cringe while he punched things and broke stuff, and stomped through the room yelling and cursing. So i didn't refuse much. But i always closed my eyes and wished for it to be over. This is when things really went downhill.
The first time i ever got drunk was with Anthony. We walked down by the railroad tracks when it got dark one summer night, and we had 2 bottles of St. Ides. I was starting to get really tipsy after about half of the first 40 bottle, and that's when we saw lights... cops. We took off up the hill and back to his house, and there i finished my first bottle, and apparently, although i dont remember it, his too. I guess i passed out for awhile. When i woke up, he was pulling my clothes off. I knew i was going to be sick, but he wouldn't stop. Everything that happened after that is a blur. That was the first time we had sex. Very romantic huh? I cried, it hurt... bad, seeing as he was only the second guy i ever slept with. Then i got up, threw up, and passed out. It was so special.
My life really went downhill from there. I started to live in his world, which was far away from my friends. In his world we got drunk, a lot, and there were times we should have died because one of us was always driving drunk. And he didn't even have a license. That was the first time in my life I ever got grounded too... for sneaking him in my house in the middle of the night. I have no idea why i stayed in that relationship as long as i did. He made my life miserable. Everyone noticed the change in me. But the more involved we got, the scarier the thought of leaving him became. And then... everything else started.
It started out as a fight, over what, i can't remember... I think it was the first time i ever proposed the idea of us breaking up. And he pushed me, hard. I fell to his hardwood floor, and that was the first time a guy had ever pushed me. I got up and went to leave, I'd had enough. He slammed the door and locked it and yelled in my face that I was going to listen to every word he had to say. He yelled at me for a long time, called me all sorts of names. I should have never went back to that house ever again after that. But for some reason, I did. And things only got worse. One night I told him I was going to a club with a friend. He didn't want me to go, but I promised I would come over afterwards. I remember I had to always sneak into his house because if his father found out i was staying there, he would probably have kicked my ass too. I came over after the club, and he was up waiting for me. He took one look at me and shook his head. He didn't like what I was wearing... it was just a tank top and black pants, but he told me I looked like a slut, and he told me I look like i was dressed to try to pick someone up at the club. He told me if i ever wanted to go there from now on, he wanted to see what i was wearing first. And he would never let me wear anything like that. My friends thought I was crazy, letting him control me like that. But i was sucked into his world, and I didn't know how to get out of it easy.
We got in a lot of fights like that. They got worse. I had to cover up bruises. I had to make excuses. One of my friends noticed and forced me to tell him what was going on. He hated Anthony. I had to tell someone. And of course, he went after Anthony. That only added fuel to the fire. That night, he threw me into his dresser -- shattering a three foot mirror all around me, and nearly breaking my back. And i don't know if i was more scared or angry, but I made a run for it. We fought by the stairs, and I fell down. Long, hard stairs. It was the worst pain of my life. I told him it was over and he chased me outside, yelling at me. Telling me i'd be back. And its all such a blur now, I don't remember how the story went from there, but we continued to get back together and break up again for over a year. Until my graduation, in fact. But not before he ruined my prom for me. Half of the night he spent outside, drinking and smoking with his friends. He refused to dance with me. I cried, and my friend Cal asked me to dance. Anthony was furious. He danced with every other girl he could, and barely talked to me. It was such a devastating night. The night every girl waits for, besides her wedding, was a night I just want to forget.
Why did me and Anthony finally go separate ways? He got in a fight with his father, and it got brutal. They tried to kill each other. One of them tried to beat the other one with a chair, and the other had a knife. I forget which was which. Anthony got sent away, and I never had to see him again. It was such a sigh of relief. But by then I had abandoned most of my friends. And again, I was alone.
I wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of that area. So i went to my freshman year of college 6 hours away, in Pittsburgh. But the pressure was too much. I had nothing out there, except a girl who i eventually grew to loathe, and I spent a lot of time going to frat parties even though I wasn't nearly old enough to drink and got very, very drunk. Sure, everyone does this freshman year, but I was failing my classes my very first semester in college. And i hated it out there, hated everything about it. I didnt even finish the semester, I came home. And i was back with all the people i had tried to run from.
That's when my weight problem began, I think. I was trying so hard to have things be different, for things to be better when i got back. I was trying to fit an image of myself that wasn't really me at all. I barely ate, partly because of depression and partly because I thought i had to be super-thin to be pretty. And now i could go to the club wearing anything i wanted. And i met this guy, almost by accident -- Jay -- and finally, i had something to look forward to again. Thursday nights, i went there to see him. And about 1 in every 3 times, he actually acknowledged me. It was pretty pathetic now, looking back. But you know how it is when you are infatuated with someone. You don't give up.
This is also around the time the drug problems started. But they, of course, made the weight-loss plan so much easier.
And eventually, I got my chance with him. But there was a triangle involved here. My best friend for many years, Lee, my "boy-next-door", a sort of Dawson Leery if you will, had started to show an interest in me that was different than our usual pal-ing around. I ignored it, not wanting to think about him that way. My parents went away for 2 weeks, and I threw a several-day party at my house that included all sorts of drinking, drugs, and one-night-standing (not for me, per say... but just about everyone hooked up with someone that week). Jay didnt make it to the party itself, but ended up coming over the day after. Now mix in with this, a new guy to the picture, Justin -- who became infatuated with me at the club during that time and was making no secret of it to his friends and to mine, and he was also a member of the week-long fiesta where, in a drunk moment, we shared some making out in my room before being interupted by Lee. Well anyway, my night with Jay, the object of some major affection, was entirely perfect to me, and it was the first thing to go right for me since Anthony. Since high school. I gave myself to him willingly, and it was everything I wanted it to be. And he confided in me so many things, and finally, i had him where I wanted him. I wasn't going to get hurt this time after all...
...or so I thought.
He didn't call me after that. When i saw him at the club that next week, he was with a girl who used to be my friend ... the same girl he said he never had an interest in. A week after he had promised me all these things, and stolen my heart away. And he was cold and unexplaining to me. Like i was a stranger, and he had no idea what i was so upset about. Now we have to backtrack in the story. That same night, Lee was very upset with me for breaking my plans with him to have my last-minute rendezvous with Jay. I had to make it up to Lee and we hung out the next night. I didnt tell him about Jay. But Lee became my shoulder to cry on once again and our relationship as friends continued to get much closer after that. I felt he was the only guy I could really rely on. I had pushed him away while i was with Anthony, and he was the only one who really forgave me for it. Lee and i started doing a lot of drugs together. It was the best way to escape, we thought. It could take me anywhere i wanted to go. We went to a lot of parties, did a lot of drugs, and spent a lot of nights just laying in his bed, talking about life and meaning and everything under the sun. Months later, it just happened. i woke up one morning, in his arms like always, and we just layed there, until suddenly, i felt his hands all over me. It was a new feeling, very weird to be experienced with him, but so comforting. I had to look at him in a way I had never looked at him before. And we became a couple. An odd couple, to be sure. But we were pretty great together.
But drugs have a tendency to really tear people apart. Especially when one of you has their head so screwed up that they have 2 girlfriends and don't think anything of it. Especially when one of you goes to jail for it. Yeah, that has a tendency to tear people apart too. But its not enough to find out your man is cheating on you... its the real kicker when it happens at the Thanksgiving table, and its your cousin telling you. That's when it gets real interesting.
But we can skip over all that. No need to drudge up memories of that sort. There was someone waiting to replace him. Someone who had been waiting ever since that night in my dark bedroom in a drunken fury at some summer party.... Justin.
Justin who did everything in his power to get me. But i was minding the advice from all his friends about him being a player. I didn't need another one of those. And i mean, it was cool that when he was spinning at the club he would dedicate songs to me, then jump over the dj booth and dance with me... and it was flattering the way he would call me every night to make sure i got home ok, and stay on the line until i fell asleep.. and still be there in the morning on the other end, even though it was long distance... but what finally made me give him a chance was the way he could never give up on me... couldn't get mad at me... just wanted to see me happy. And i gave him a chance. I knew he loved me... i could see it in his eyes, could feel it the way he shivered when he touched me. The way he was afraid to hurt me, or to do something to upset me. I was his princess, and he put me on top of the world, and told me he would never hurt me or cheat on me like Lee had.
But once a cheater, always a cheater.
Do i really need to tell you about all the horrible things he did? The person he became? No, because its all there, in the archives, spelled out in the middle of the night in full color. Every last moment of it. Our thick, our thin. The good, the bad, the very very bad. From the moment he first said my name to the time i threw his engagement ring back at him on the boardwalk, and all the way up to 2 years after our breaking up and his continuing to fuck with my head. So i dont need to write it here, you can always go back and read that story if you missed it, although its very long, drawn out, and pathetic, and you wont know whether to cry or to slap me for being so goddamn naive and for being blind to it all for so long. So yeah... lets skip all that, shall we?
Fast forward to about... now. Let's have a little bit of the gray area defined. But first, the obvious...
I'm back at the job I loved. After learning the hard way that revenge is detrimental to your character and that its always better to let karma handle things for you, I was given a second chance, and its been a turning point in my career. That's one plus. I'm very close to finishing school, finally, and I've made up for all the fucking up I did a year ago thanks to Justin. My bills are finally starting to be caught up... and its such a good feeling. Anyone who's ever been in debt knows what a sigh of relief it is the day you get your bills straightened out. Then there's Danny... he's this guy I fell in love with over a year ago, totally unexpectedly, who opened my eyes to the world again and then just as quickly, pulled the mat out from underneath my feet. I spend my days clinging to something that's just not there anymore because he's the only honest person I know and because the thought of being without him makes me paranoid. But more and more he becomes like a stranger and more and more, i have begun to hate him. I don't hate him because he has ambitions... I'm happy that he is finally getting what he has worked so hard for. I am starting to hate him because its becoming glaringly apparent that he's going to hurt me just like the rest of them did, and he knows he's doing it but he won't do anything about it. Its a really sad feeling, and every day, it becomes more and more intense. I'm getting pretty fucking good at just sitting back taking it all in, and learning how to become tougher on the outside just by getting slapped again and again metaphorically with all this shit. But on the inside, i'm crumbling.
What i've left myself with is shattered hopes, that even i don't believe in anymore, dreams that become bleaker and bleaker with each passing day, and so many regrets that my life has become so dark that some days i just lay in bed, not wanting to go outside of my house into this world that keeps damaging me. I pretend to be the sparkling, glittery girl that they all know, and most of the time it works, but these days i don't try much anymore to conceal my depression, and its getting harder and harder to rationalize things and why they are so bad. I don't know what i want out of life anymore, just that i want it to stop hurting. I have things in my life that make me happy but sometimes i just don't want them either, i just want to be alone. I've gotten pretty good at that. And i'm tired of having to defend myself to others, especially to Danny. He of all people should know what it feels like to be alone, yet he still tries to make me see things his way, and all i can think these days is that his way is all fucked, but he doesn't even act like he cares about me, and he can never, never, tell me how he feels about me, or that i even matter to him, except when it comes to that fine line between losing me and keeping me, and i hate that. i think i deserve to be cared out, by someone at least. Love shouldn't have to be such hard work. It shouldn't be one person sitting around waiting all the time. And what is being with someone that you don't love? It doesn't really seem like it has a point to me. Because the more i love him, the more he pushes me away. I'm so sick of being pushed away.
And you know what else? I tried to do some things right, when it came to friendship. I think friends are allowed to fuck up, at least once. And in case you ever read this Jenn, I just want you to know that the last time i wrote you, i was sincere, and the fact that you didnt even bother to write back makes me realize what kind of friend you are. I don't really need you either. So at least we can be on the same page there. I'm starting to think i dont really need anyone. I'm the only person who wont hurt me.
So i've left myself with all these things that i thought i had become stronger from. And really, there are so many things in-between those things that have also shaped who i have become. But they are so numerous to mention. There's the guy i drove all the way to Boston to see -- who i thought was my soulmate, and he proved to me that people only do what wont hurt them at the time, and then being sorry for it later is supposed to make up for it. I forgive him, but now, making that trip again, seems so -- tiring. Then there's all those people who i used to party with... who i really dont give a shit where they are right now and i'm sure its mutual. There's my friend joanna who i never get to see, who will be leaving for Africa before i know it. There's my friend in Ohio who i keep promising to go see, and never do. But only because, i dont want to complicate things. In various ways. There's Jason, who wont stop calling me, and who is really starting to annoy me, but who i am too nice to tell to fuck off. There's my sister, who i'm trying desperately to have a normal relationship with but who wont give me the time of day. There's my father who has something wrong with his heart, and who makes me sad every time i think about losing him. There's my friend that i live with who i just want to leave for another country with and not come back, because we both hate it here so much, but i'm tied down by all these things... There's all the people at work who are cool to have drinks with, but who probably wouldn't give a damn about if i told all this too. There's my ex, who i just want to hear from, just to know he's still alive, who i havent heard from in over a year, and probably might never will again. There's my friend Jeremy in New York, who is now a missing person, and who i'm very worried about. And there's about a million other people, but i'm not going to list them. They know who they are.
And that's the in-between from the past couple years. I thought writing this out could be therapeutic, but really, it was just a way to admit to a lot of things i had carried around for a long time. And partly, it was a way to say, i really dont give a shit anymore about a lot of things, and i dont know if that, by definition, makes me a stronger person, or if i'm less of a person for it. But either way, i need to find a meaning out of all of this. Because i dont know if i'm more sick of faking happiness, or trying to find it. And i cant even write anymore. Its all fluff. If i proofread this, it will kill me.
But life goes on, they say. And its not where you end up, its the journey that matters.
But so often, i have never taken the time to sit down and tell you about all the moments in-between those heart-wrenching times, those blissfully perfect times... was i afraid of being looked down on? scorned? laughed at? or was it just that i thought none of it really mattered? well, if you think about it, its those in-between moments that lead to all those significant ones. without them, there is no transition. there is no climax. no happy ending. there is just one moment after the next and nothing that led up to it. no story.
so, here is mine. here is my in-between. my story. and i'll begin it in high school.
* * *
When i was 17, i thought i was in love.
There was this boy named Timmy, and I don't really remember how I met him. Just that he was a "friend of a friend" and I remember the day we drove him home, and I got up all my courage to ask him to go to the semi-formal with me. He didn't even go to my school, and I can't remember if I was attracted to him or what... but I asked him, and he said yes. What grade was that, 10th or 11th? I dont remember. But i know that the reason I thought i was in love with him was because he was the first guy ever, that I couldn't seem to get over. And the more I tried to get him back, the more he didn't want to have anything to do with me. And it was my own fault he left me.... but I never admitted to anyone that what had happened was true. I think i lied to so many people about it that i started to believe it myself. But i was so ashamed, and so sorry, and regretted so badly what i had done. and i knew that admitting to it, would be the end. at least as long as there was doubt in his mind, there was hope. Boy, was I naive.
What had happened? Well, probably just what you are thinking. There was this other guy, Victor. He was one of those guys who was the most popular guy you could think of. He played all the sports, got the attention of all the girls. Could have anything he wanted. And did. I wasn't even attracted to him. But my best friend at the time, she was very much attracted to him. And it was weird, being jealous of her all the time. Because you're not supposed to be jealous of your best friend. But i was. She had everything I ever wanted, and didn't have. And she took it all for granted. And i wanted to be like her in every way. I wanted guys to look at me like they looked at her. I wanted to have her grades, her luxuries, her perfect face and perfect body. Her gorgeous hair. Her cheerleader, prom queen, miss-perfect life. And he was the one thing she didn't have but wanted. And I don't remember how the chance came upon me, but there we were... him and me in my red car. I thought i was taking him home from basketball, and following his directions, there we stopped, at a dead end. No houses in sight. And i knew then, that there was some other agenda here.
And you know what? I think i know he didn't really want anything more than sex. I should have known that, at least. But it was such a feeling of power... knowing that the guy that everyone wanted was here, in my car, putting his hands on me. It was me, winning, over all of them, over her, and it gave me such a rush. Here was the most popular guy in school, looking me in the eyes, about to kiss me. And here was me, about to throw away the guy i would continue to try to win back for years after, just because i couldn't say no to Victor. And was it everything i had hoped it would be? I had sex with him, in the front seat of my little red car, in broad daylight, in the middle of nowhere. And he would brag to his friends no sooner than I had dropped him off. And he wasn't bragging because i was this magnificent thing to be conquered... he was bragging because i was naive, and easily controlled... and i had fucked up. I think this is where the term being "screwed" came from. And i don't think he and i ever spoke again after that day. And my self-esteem had just about collapsed.
It didn't take long before all this got back to Timmy. And the look in his eyes was so disheartening, that i felt sick to my stomach. And what was worse, he couldn't even look me in the eye. I don't think he ever did after that day. And i was crying, and i kept insisting that nothing happened. But he never believed me. And i always said to myself that I would never ever cheat on someone ever again -- not because i lost the guy i cared for so much, but because i never wanted anyone to have that look in their eyes like he had, the day I broke his heart. And i kept going back to his house, even when he wasn't there. His mother was like a mother to me, and his family always welcomed me with open arms. Even after me and Timmy broke up, they still sent me Christmas cards, and his mother wrote me letters. When i visit my hometown, I always drive past his house. At Christmas they put up blue lights on the bushes. It still looks like home. But i dont go back there anymore. He gave me a ring a long time ago, and I never took it off. It was kind of like a reminder, of that year in my life. And now, it wont even come off. I put it on as a child, and my finger grew, and there it stays, mounted on my finger. People ask me where I got it, and I say I can't remember. But how can i ever really forget?
The situation blew over after much drama. I can't believe how many people I had to lie to. But the worst part of all of it was that I didn't have much respect for myself after it. I chalked it up as something foolish I did when I was young and vulnerable, but the truth is, I never forgave myself for that. But life sends you help getting over these things... and life sent me.... Anthony.
Anthony was a friend of Timmy's, although Timmy didn't really like him all that much. He just always seemed to be wherever his group of friends were. Anthony was the youngest of all of them. I thought he was 2 years younger than us, but a long time later, I found out that he was only 14 when I started seeing him. Anthony had a very dark, mysterious look to him. He had a way of charming the hell out of you. Still, he wasn't Timmy. And i knew he was trying to get with me, but i didn't realize he was using my vulnerability to his advantage. I remember the day we drove out to the strip mines together, and i wanted to commit suicide. That was the day i should have realized just what an asshole he was... since he even offered to push me if i couldn't go through with it. What was his strategy that day, i wonder now? But we ended up back at his house, me sobbing in his arms, and him, lighting the tip of the picture of me and Timmy at the Semi with a Bic lighter, and watching my dreams go up in flames. And he didn't waste any time moving in on that heartbroken moment -- it was the first time he kissed me. And it marked a year in my life that i wish I could erase completely.
I gave in to him. He seemed like a decent alternative to being lonely, and I forced myself to like him. There wasn't much good about him, when I think back. I was charmed by him, yes. He was intriguing to me, because up until then, i had been this miss goody-two-shoes and innocent and prissy. And here was this guy who broke every rule i knew. And he wanted me. And i wanted a part of his world. And i knew he could make me forget Timmy, and everything that happened. I never knew what it would cost me.
His charm wasn't his only personality. He had a mean side, that i had never seen while just hanging out at the pizza parlor with him, or at the football games. When he didn't get his way, he got violent. I was terrified of him at times. His room was on the second floor of this house on Winter's Ave. The bottom floor was an Italian restaurant that his father used to own, which was now closed. His father, i later found out, was part of the Mafia. And it was no wonder where he got his mean streak from. His father scared me even more. I used to stay at Anthony's house a lot. I told my parents I was out with friends, and I would sit in his room which smelled like stale cigarettes and learned to listen to rap music and dammit, i cant remember anything else we really did there, aside from having sex. And we had sex whenever he wanted. There was no other way. And when i didn't want to, that was when i got to huddle in a corner and cringe while he punched things and broke stuff, and stomped through the room yelling and cursing. So i didn't refuse much. But i always closed my eyes and wished for it to be over. This is when things really went downhill.
The first time i ever got drunk was with Anthony. We walked down by the railroad tracks when it got dark one summer night, and we had 2 bottles of St. Ides. I was starting to get really tipsy after about half of the first 40 bottle, and that's when we saw lights... cops. We took off up the hill and back to his house, and there i finished my first bottle, and apparently, although i dont remember it, his too. I guess i passed out for awhile. When i woke up, he was pulling my clothes off. I knew i was going to be sick, but he wouldn't stop. Everything that happened after that is a blur. That was the first time we had sex. Very romantic huh? I cried, it hurt... bad, seeing as he was only the second guy i ever slept with. Then i got up, threw up, and passed out. It was so special.
My life really went downhill from there. I started to live in his world, which was far away from my friends. In his world we got drunk, a lot, and there were times we should have died because one of us was always driving drunk. And he didn't even have a license. That was the first time in my life I ever got grounded too... for sneaking him in my house in the middle of the night. I have no idea why i stayed in that relationship as long as i did. He made my life miserable. Everyone noticed the change in me. But the more involved we got, the scarier the thought of leaving him became. And then... everything else started.
It started out as a fight, over what, i can't remember... I think it was the first time i ever proposed the idea of us breaking up. And he pushed me, hard. I fell to his hardwood floor, and that was the first time a guy had ever pushed me. I got up and went to leave, I'd had enough. He slammed the door and locked it and yelled in my face that I was going to listen to every word he had to say. He yelled at me for a long time, called me all sorts of names. I should have never went back to that house ever again after that. But for some reason, I did. And things only got worse. One night I told him I was going to a club with a friend. He didn't want me to go, but I promised I would come over afterwards. I remember I had to always sneak into his house because if his father found out i was staying there, he would probably have kicked my ass too. I came over after the club, and he was up waiting for me. He took one look at me and shook his head. He didn't like what I was wearing... it was just a tank top and black pants, but he told me I looked like a slut, and he told me I look like i was dressed to try to pick someone up at the club. He told me if i ever wanted to go there from now on, he wanted to see what i was wearing first. And he would never let me wear anything like that. My friends thought I was crazy, letting him control me like that. But i was sucked into his world, and I didn't know how to get out of it easy.
We got in a lot of fights like that. They got worse. I had to cover up bruises. I had to make excuses. One of my friends noticed and forced me to tell him what was going on. He hated Anthony. I had to tell someone. And of course, he went after Anthony. That only added fuel to the fire. That night, he threw me into his dresser -- shattering a three foot mirror all around me, and nearly breaking my back. And i don't know if i was more scared or angry, but I made a run for it. We fought by the stairs, and I fell down. Long, hard stairs. It was the worst pain of my life. I told him it was over and he chased me outside, yelling at me. Telling me i'd be back. And its all such a blur now, I don't remember how the story went from there, but we continued to get back together and break up again for over a year. Until my graduation, in fact. But not before he ruined my prom for me. Half of the night he spent outside, drinking and smoking with his friends. He refused to dance with me. I cried, and my friend Cal asked me to dance. Anthony was furious. He danced with every other girl he could, and barely talked to me. It was such a devastating night. The night every girl waits for, besides her wedding, was a night I just want to forget.
Why did me and Anthony finally go separate ways? He got in a fight with his father, and it got brutal. They tried to kill each other. One of them tried to beat the other one with a chair, and the other had a knife. I forget which was which. Anthony got sent away, and I never had to see him again. It was such a sigh of relief. But by then I had abandoned most of my friends. And again, I was alone.
I wanted nothing more than to get the fuck out of that area. So i went to my freshman year of college 6 hours away, in Pittsburgh. But the pressure was too much. I had nothing out there, except a girl who i eventually grew to loathe, and I spent a lot of time going to frat parties even though I wasn't nearly old enough to drink and got very, very drunk. Sure, everyone does this freshman year, but I was failing my classes my very first semester in college. And i hated it out there, hated everything about it. I didnt even finish the semester, I came home. And i was back with all the people i had tried to run from.
That's when my weight problem began, I think. I was trying so hard to have things be different, for things to be better when i got back. I was trying to fit an image of myself that wasn't really me at all. I barely ate, partly because of depression and partly because I thought i had to be super-thin to be pretty. And now i could go to the club wearing anything i wanted. And i met this guy, almost by accident -- Jay -- and finally, i had something to look forward to again. Thursday nights, i went there to see him. And about 1 in every 3 times, he actually acknowledged me. It was pretty pathetic now, looking back. But you know how it is when you are infatuated with someone. You don't give up.
This is also around the time the drug problems started. But they, of course, made the weight-loss plan so much easier.
And eventually, I got my chance with him. But there was a triangle involved here. My best friend for many years, Lee, my "boy-next-door", a sort of Dawson Leery if you will, had started to show an interest in me that was different than our usual pal-ing around. I ignored it, not wanting to think about him that way. My parents went away for 2 weeks, and I threw a several-day party at my house that included all sorts of drinking, drugs, and one-night-standing (not for me, per say... but just about everyone hooked up with someone that week). Jay didnt make it to the party itself, but ended up coming over the day after. Now mix in with this, a new guy to the picture, Justin -- who became infatuated with me at the club during that time and was making no secret of it to his friends and to mine, and he was also a member of the week-long fiesta where, in a drunk moment, we shared some making out in my room before being interupted by Lee. Well anyway, my night with Jay, the object of some major affection, was entirely perfect to me, and it was the first thing to go right for me since Anthony. Since high school. I gave myself to him willingly, and it was everything I wanted it to be. And he confided in me so many things, and finally, i had him where I wanted him. I wasn't going to get hurt this time after all...
...or so I thought.
He didn't call me after that. When i saw him at the club that next week, he was with a girl who used to be my friend ... the same girl he said he never had an interest in. A week after he had promised me all these things, and stolen my heart away. And he was cold and unexplaining to me. Like i was a stranger, and he had no idea what i was so upset about. Now we have to backtrack in the story. That same night, Lee was very upset with me for breaking my plans with him to have my last-minute rendezvous with Jay. I had to make it up to Lee and we hung out the next night. I didnt tell him about Jay. But Lee became my shoulder to cry on once again and our relationship as friends continued to get much closer after that. I felt he was the only guy I could really rely on. I had pushed him away while i was with Anthony, and he was the only one who really forgave me for it. Lee and i started doing a lot of drugs together. It was the best way to escape, we thought. It could take me anywhere i wanted to go. We went to a lot of parties, did a lot of drugs, and spent a lot of nights just laying in his bed, talking about life and meaning and everything under the sun. Months later, it just happened. i woke up one morning, in his arms like always, and we just layed there, until suddenly, i felt his hands all over me. It was a new feeling, very weird to be experienced with him, but so comforting. I had to look at him in a way I had never looked at him before. And we became a couple. An odd couple, to be sure. But we were pretty great together.
But drugs have a tendency to really tear people apart. Especially when one of you has their head so screwed up that they have 2 girlfriends and don't think anything of it. Especially when one of you goes to jail for it. Yeah, that has a tendency to tear people apart too. But its not enough to find out your man is cheating on you... its the real kicker when it happens at the Thanksgiving table, and its your cousin telling you. That's when it gets real interesting.
But we can skip over all that. No need to drudge up memories of that sort. There was someone waiting to replace him. Someone who had been waiting ever since that night in my dark bedroom in a drunken fury at some summer party.... Justin.
Justin who did everything in his power to get me. But i was minding the advice from all his friends about him being a player. I didn't need another one of those. And i mean, it was cool that when he was spinning at the club he would dedicate songs to me, then jump over the dj booth and dance with me... and it was flattering the way he would call me every night to make sure i got home ok, and stay on the line until i fell asleep.. and still be there in the morning on the other end, even though it was long distance... but what finally made me give him a chance was the way he could never give up on me... couldn't get mad at me... just wanted to see me happy. And i gave him a chance. I knew he loved me... i could see it in his eyes, could feel it the way he shivered when he touched me. The way he was afraid to hurt me, or to do something to upset me. I was his princess, and he put me on top of the world, and told me he would never hurt me or cheat on me like Lee had.
But once a cheater, always a cheater.
Do i really need to tell you about all the horrible things he did? The person he became? No, because its all there, in the archives, spelled out in the middle of the night in full color. Every last moment of it. Our thick, our thin. The good, the bad, the very very bad. From the moment he first said my name to the time i threw his engagement ring back at him on the boardwalk, and all the way up to 2 years after our breaking up and his continuing to fuck with my head. So i dont need to write it here, you can always go back and read that story if you missed it, although its very long, drawn out, and pathetic, and you wont know whether to cry or to slap me for being so goddamn naive and for being blind to it all for so long. So yeah... lets skip all that, shall we?
Fast forward to about... now. Let's have a little bit of the gray area defined. But first, the obvious...
I'm back at the job I loved. After learning the hard way that revenge is detrimental to your character and that its always better to let karma handle things for you, I was given a second chance, and its been a turning point in my career. That's one plus. I'm very close to finishing school, finally, and I've made up for all the fucking up I did a year ago thanks to Justin. My bills are finally starting to be caught up... and its such a good feeling. Anyone who's ever been in debt knows what a sigh of relief it is the day you get your bills straightened out. Then there's Danny... he's this guy I fell in love with over a year ago, totally unexpectedly, who opened my eyes to the world again and then just as quickly, pulled the mat out from underneath my feet. I spend my days clinging to something that's just not there anymore because he's the only honest person I know and because the thought of being without him makes me paranoid. But more and more he becomes like a stranger and more and more, i have begun to hate him. I don't hate him because he has ambitions... I'm happy that he is finally getting what he has worked so hard for. I am starting to hate him because its becoming glaringly apparent that he's going to hurt me just like the rest of them did, and he knows he's doing it but he won't do anything about it. Its a really sad feeling, and every day, it becomes more and more intense. I'm getting pretty fucking good at just sitting back taking it all in, and learning how to become tougher on the outside just by getting slapped again and again metaphorically with all this shit. But on the inside, i'm crumbling.
What i've left myself with is shattered hopes, that even i don't believe in anymore, dreams that become bleaker and bleaker with each passing day, and so many regrets that my life has become so dark that some days i just lay in bed, not wanting to go outside of my house into this world that keeps damaging me. I pretend to be the sparkling, glittery girl that they all know, and most of the time it works, but these days i don't try much anymore to conceal my depression, and its getting harder and harder to rationalize things and why they are so bad. I don't know what i want out of life anymore, just that i want it to stop hurting. I have things in my life that make me happy but sometimes i just don't want them either, i just want to be alone. I've gotten pretty good at that. And i'm tired of having to defend myself to others, especially to Danny. He of all people should know what it feels like to be alone, yet he still tries to make me see things his way, and all i can think these days is that his way is all fucked, but he doesn't even act like he cares about me, and he can never, never, tell me how he feels about me, or that i even matter to him, except when it comes to that fine line between losing me and keeping me, and i hate that. i think i deserve to be cared out, by someone at least. Love shouldn't have to be such hard work. It shouldn't be one person sitting around waiting all the time. And what is being with someone that you don't love? It doesn't really seem like it has a point to me. Because the more i love him, the more he pushes me away. I'm so sick of being pushed away.
And you know what else? I tried to do some things right, when it came to friendship. I think friends are allowed to fuck up, at least once. And in case you ever read this Jenn, I just want you to know that the last time i wrote you, i was sincere, and the fact that you didnt even bother to write back makes me realize what kind of friend you are. I don't really need you either. So at least we can be on the same page there. I'm starting to think i dont really need anyone. I'm the only person who wont hurt me.
So i've left myself with all these things that i thought i had become stronger from. And really, there are so many things in-between those things that have also shaped who i have become. But they are so numerous to mention. There's the guy i drove all the way to Boston to see -- who i thought was my soulmate, and he proved to me that people only do what wont hurt them at the time, and then being sorry for it later is supposed to make up for it. I forgive him, but now, making that trip again, seems so -- tiring. Then there's all those people who i used to party with... who i really dont give a shit where they are right now and i'm sure its mutual. There's my friend joanna who i never get to see, who will be leaving for Africa before i know it. There's my friend in Ohio who i keep promising to go see, and never do. But only because, i dont want to complicate things. In various ways. There's Jason, who wont stop calling me, and who is really starting to annoy me, but who i am too nice to tell to fuck off. There's my sister, who i'm trying desperately to have a normal relationship with but who wont give me the time of day. There's my father who has something wrong with his heart, and who makes me sad every time i think about losing him. There's my friend that i live with who i just want to leave for another country with and not come back, because we both hate it here so much, but i'm tied down by all these things... There's all the people at work who are cool to have drinks with, but who probably wouldn't give a damn about if i told all this too. There's my ex, who i just want to hear from, just to know he's still alive, who i havent heard from in over a year, and probably might never will again. There's my friend Jeremy in New York, who is now a missing person, and who i'm very worried about. And there's about a million other people, but i'm not going to list them. They know who they are.
And that's the in-between from the past couple years. I thought writing this out could be therapeutic, but really, it was just a way to admit to a lot of things i had carried around for a long time. And partly, it was a way to say, i really dont give a shit anymore about a lot of things, and i dont know if that, by definition, makes me a stronger person, or if i'm less of a person for it. But either way, i need to find a meaning out of all of this. Because i dont know if i'm more sick of faking happiness, or trying to find it. And i cant even write anymore. Its all fluff. If i proofread this, it will kill me.
But life goes on, they say. And its not where you end up, its the journey that matters.
