Realizations and Bad Habbits

I made it back from the West Coast to Texas and thought I’d be free of Paul. I was pretty depressed of having to return home and being without a job. Recovering from an abusive relationship but not acknowledging that you were abused is a tough thing to push through. I allowed myself time to read, draw and do the things I wasn’t able to do while under Paul’s controlling leer. My Relationship with my family was rocky but they all expressed how happy they were that I was back.

First thing I did was continue my friendship with Spencer. He would be in town for a while longer until he went off to complete a film he was working on. He introduced me to Thomas. Thomas invited Spencer and myself over and Spencer got desperately drunk and started to sing and cry and talk about how much he hated his beautiful girlfriend. How she was manipulative and angry and evil and empty. I drove him home that night but he didn’t leave without kissing me. It was a drunk kiss that didn’t last long but it was a cry for help. I pulled away from Spencer and told him that as a friend i loved him very much and if he really felt this way about Brenda then he needed to break up with her.

Spencer had left his phone in my car so the next morning i had a million missed calls from Thomas. I called Thomas who relayed the information so I drove up to the burger joint not far from my house and returned Spencers phone to him. He hugged me and apologized for his drunken behavior to which I shook my head and told him it wasn’t a problem. A few Hours later Thomas called me and asked to take me on a date. I didn’t want to turn him down but I felt it was a bad idea. I politely declined saying I had plans that weekend. He fired back with when would be a good time. I said “to heck with it.” and told him Friday would work for me. I drove to his house and we took his car and drove for over an hour to a small town that had a very nice independent movie theater and a very nice town square. We watched that movie with Owen Wilson and Rachel McAdams, Midnight in Paris.

Afterwards we went and got gelato and walked around the square that had a huge fountain. We talked about his acting career and Spencers self destructive relationship. He talked about his family and asked about my relationship with the opposite sex and the type of friendships I had. He was charming, dark skin, dark hair, green eyes and dressed well. He was attractive and charming. By the time we were on our drive back home we had gotten into deeper topics and I confided in him the truth of my past relationships and how I didn’t make good choices when it came to men. They were either manipulative and crazy or I just got what i wanted from then and then they left or I left. He explained that he was seriously detatched from relationships and that’s why they never worked. (That was his way of telling me he didn’t want a relationship. He just wanted some ass.)

We went skinny dipping in his pool at his house. We made out and fooled around in his pool. He took me upstairs to his room and we had sex. It was not extraordinary. It was not mind blowing. It did however feel amazing to have mutual, consensual sex. We fell asleep in his floor wrapped in his sheets. The next morning I twisted my hair into a messy bun, put my clothes on, used some of the mouthwash in his bathroom, gave him a hug and he kissed me pretty passionately before I left. That week he went back to school in New York. I never heard from him again. I delted his number and decided to forget about him.

Truth is that was a HUGE wake up call for me. The next two weeks i spent trying to find a job I was actually loosing my mind because i realized the sex that i had had with Paul was not consensual and it was not right. I always thought as a “girl friend” I HAD to have sex with my boyfriend. It made me realize about Patrick and how I shouldn’t have laid silently on the couch and let him fuck me. I should’ve screamed for help and let my dad beat the shit out of him.I found a Job working at a craft store and one day while working the cash register a man walked up and laid a chocolate candy bar and an art pad on my register. When I looked up it was none other than Paul standing there and smiling at me.


Fuckboys, Older Guys, and Stupidity

If any of these Fuckboys* I talk about are as important as my current boyfriend it’s Gregory. Greg for short. We made out in the chapel at church. We fucked in the back of my car in the church parking lot. I gave him a blow job one of the empty class rooms and I can’t tell you how many times at Sunday mass we would go to the bathroom to make out. 

If any one is going to hell it’s definitely me. I just hope that fucker Greg has a seat far away from me. 

He’s a year older than me and I went for Greg because I couldn’t get to Kyle. (Kyle was a tall muscular swimmer who was a senior at the time I was a sophomore? So like 15) 

I had the BIGGEST crush on my Catholic wednsday teacher Matt. He was like 6’7 maybe 6’8. SUPER tall and handsome. Dark hair, muscular, lean, gorgeous smile. (I’m a fuck in sucker for a nice smile and pretty white teeth.) he would talk to me after class and would run his hand through my hair while talking to me. (I had really long naturally blonde hair then that was almost down to my waist.) He made me feel important. I would talk to him about my depression and my issues with the church and my eating disorder. I trusted him. A lot. There was one occasion (before Greg) where I stayed after class to clean up and we were talking about how I was doing and about my most recent breakup and he said (I will never forget this.) 

“If you were my girlfriend id treat you like a goddess.” 

I was speechless. I was just this awkward too skinny freckled little 15 year old and he was 22. I remember him sitting on a desk and I gave him a hug and he was still taller than me but he cupped his hand at the back of my neck and pulled my face towards his and RIGHT as he was about to kiss my lips he kisses my forehead and then hugged me and grabbed his stuff. We walked out together and I went home that night my panties wetter than they had ever been before. 

Maybe three weeks after that is when I started talking to Greg but we weren’t dating. My friend, Kathleen, who was super into art too, asked me about my weight and stuff and I talked to her and confesses that I was throwing up and miserable and depressed and she then told Matt and Johnny who were my teachers and they told my sister who was their age who then told my mom who then put me in a out patient program for bulimics. 

I stopped talking to Greg and wouldn’t talk to Matt or anyone in my religious class and at school I just hated everyone and felt so fat. 

I did however fall for a drug dealer who was a year above me. Israel, he was a loser and akward like me and we kissed, and had sex a few times and then we broke up. After that I dated a black guy Enzio, Zoe for short. I loved him FIERCELY. He was sweet and honest with me and just very caring. I have him head in an empty class room after school one day and we wound up having sex. We were inseparable until my dad found out he was black. 

My father is a racist and an asshole. I punched my wall I broke shit in my room I caused all kinds of chaos when he demanded I call and break up with him. I did it while crying and he told me it was okay, we could talk the next day at school. I did and he told me he wanted to end things. He said if my father was like that then we would have to hide our relationship and go through a lot of hell to stay together. 

That broke my heart and I spiraled into my eating disorder even worse. My mom was working a lot so she wasn’t really following my out patient program and my dad was pretty much in denial. So that summer before I turned 16 my mom sent me to an eating disorder clinic for in patient help. 

I gained SO much fucking weight that summer. I hated myself. The only person who called me while in out patient was Greg. When I got out I went back to starving myself and wanting to be thin again and Greg and I started dating. We were like two matches burning so strong and bright and fast just to fizzle out and turn our backs on each other. We always went back to each other though. 

During one of our worse break ups because I found out he was doing drugs, I started dating his friend Frank. Frank was shorter than me, was a virgin and very into his church. I think I ruined him. I took his virginity, we snuck around and he got into trouble with his parents and by the end of our relationship he wouldn’t tell me he cared about me. We never said “I love you.” We always said “I care about you a lot. Good night/good bye/good morning. It hurt me but I ended our relationship because I could feel his disdain for me. 

Having sex was mutual but it meant something to him. To me? I was just trying to feel something at that point. We both knew it. I had chopped off my hair, gained 40 lbs from out patient and following my program. That was partially after outpatient and at the beginning of my junior year. 

I spent a few weeks in Santa Monica with my cousin. I smoked some heroin. I know. I know. It’s fucked up and who the fuck even does that? I learned a lot but apparently not enough because my taste for drugs grew. When I started school again After thanksgiving or Christmas I don’t remember.. I started hanging out with Felicia a lot. She got me snorting adderal and taking vivanse and smoking weed, I was peer pressured into speed and all other kinds of drugs. I lost a ton of weight really fast and me and Greg got involved again. 

He was finally clean and there I was fucking up and taking my turn experiencing drugs. He got me to tone down the drugs and my eating disorder. I can’t say he didn’t do anything to help me. He tried really hard. He did cheat on me though. I found out and we broke up for the umpteenth time. Shocker. 

That summer I hung out with Felicia and Farrah a lot. Hung out more with Felicia than I did Farrah. I got into plenty of trouble but I don’t really remember having sex with anyone except for Patrick during that time. 

Once my senior year started all hell broke lose. He put me through hell and treated me in unspeakable ways. He was the first abusive relationship and just the tip of the ice berg of a few more abusive relationships to come. 

* fuckboys: like the word “slut” but for boys. To be when I hear “fuckboy” I just think of a guy who I fucked and it didn’t work out because of reasons? (I dunno I’m drunk and doing my best Bc I forgot to add the “fuckboy” explanation to my draft. *