I’m not exactly sure how I got myself into this mess. I mean, I know the events that lead up to it, I guess what I’m saying is that I wonder if there was a certain point where I shoulda gone left and I went right. Or is there just some sort of extraterrestrial conspiracy against me. The information that you are about to read is mostly true. Some of the names have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent and of course myself from losing my job and/or having to move out of town. I wouldn’t suggest that you try any of this at home. My knowledge comes from long hours of painful “fieldwork” followed by vats of wine, vodka, and self-help books.
Today is December 1st and it’s snowing. Hard. How cliché? It’s dark and miserable ironically similar to my mood. Shamus, who you’ll hear plenty about, has annoyed me again. But perhaps I should begin long before him. Let’s do that. Because I think it’s important to set the premise of my future demise and maybe you’ll feel bad for me and forgive me for the acts that I’d later commit. (Don’t worry I won’t leave anything out.)
In high school, I was dating the football star. He was perfect. And I mean perfect. Great body. Smart. Smokin hot. Great family, who I loved sadly more than him, and of course he loved me. Everything about him was right. Except he was boring as fuck and I was young and energetic. Had I wanted to take out stock in Blockbuster and continue some heavy petting for the rest of my life, he would have been Prince Fuckin Charming. He was ready to pick out china and I was ready to smash it and go streaking.
So, needless to say, after a long painful high school break up of ignoring each other & other immature acts of ignorance, I went to a party. I didn’t even want to go to this party. But I went. And I met a boy- “The one who shall not be named”. And I might say this was the closest I’d ever come to any sort of “love at first sight” nonsense. We hit it off immediately and spent the remainder of those summer nights staying up all night long, talking, kissing, & holding close. And we fell in love. Real love. Real heart-wrenching, “I can barely breathe without out you”, “you were meant for me”, “so happy together” L.O.V.E. He left for college and I didn’t get out of bed for days. I planned my nights around a phone call and spent the majority of my senior year in class writing him letters. (This was before email.) It was the best relationship I had ever had and I knew in my heart this was it. I went to college not far from him and we’d do weekends together when we could. Over the next couple years, we traveled, went to concerts, made boat loads of memories with very few fights, loved and loved and loved. Some mornings we’d stay in bed for hours just lying with one another giggling and wrestling in the sheets. Color me stupid, but I thought we had it pretty fucking good.
Have you ever had just a “feeling” about someone? He moved into a new apartment complex junior year of college and things started to change. The neighbors, on in particular just rubbed me the wrong way. She was always insisting that we hang out and watch Disney movies and shit. It was too much. We’ll call her “Succubus”. I think that fits nicely.
Fast forward to Christmas break- He INSISTED we go back early. I was a huge pussy at this point in my life and hated leaving my family or him or anything else that made me feel safe and comfortable. I also could never tell him no. Had I met myself then, today, I’d wanna punch myself in the face. So naturally, I was not happy that we had to leave early to return to college. His justifications included everything from “I have tickets to a basketball game” to “The complex is having a party”. Reluctantly I agreed, and we packed MY car and drove back. I had just come down with a pretty nasty strep throat and wasn’t feeling well at all not to mention dreading a 10+ hour car ride back. So we finally pull into his apartment complex and there isn’t a mother fuckin soul. Party, huh? I couldn’t find my antibiotics in the cluster fuck that was in my car and at this point I am so sick and pissed I marched into his apartment and basically up to bed. What seemed like a short time, later I awoke to music blaring. Now anyone that knows me, knows if you wake me up you better be wearing a bullet proof vest because I will hurt you. I marched downstairs to find him, one of his roommates, and the Succubus, laughing and carrying on. I not-so-politely asked them to turn down the music as I don’t feel well and am trying to sleep, received a few smirks, and I marched back upstairs. The next thing I remember is hearing noises outside. I looked out his window and saw her and him kissing. I immediately ran into the bathroom, puked, and then flew down the stairs with furry. He had every excuse in the book. He told me they were “best friends”. I don’t know about you, but I typically don’t stick my tongue down my best friends throats. Just sayin. Words were exchanged. I may or may not have screamed “WHORE” in her face. Tears shed. He told me that he wanted to go next door and get her side of the story. My dumbass let him. He never came home all night. I cried and cried and cried. The next morning he told me he wanted to take a break and start over. The rest is such a blur. I don’t even know how I got back to my own apartment. I know I sobbed the entire 2 hour drive.
The following months are sketchy too. There were weekly phone calls and “I love you’s” but I still missed him horribly. I fell into a deep depression. I started taking sleeping pills every night to block out the nightmares, sweats, and screams. I drank coffee all day just to function. My roommate started staying at her boyfriends I’m sure because she was sick of listening to me crying all night. I didn’t eat. I weighed less than 100lbs and I’m 5’7. I threw myself into school and dance. Despite success there, I still couldn’t seem to get myself together. My body was failing and my heart was beyond broken. There wasn’t one ounce of me that thought I could live without him.
I went down there one more time for his birthday because he “couldn’t imagine spending his birthday without me”. Only to discover that the Succubus had been wooing him for quite some time and despite his phone calls and “I Love You’s” he was indeed seeing her. I was not told this until after I, of course, gave him all of his birthday gifts and banged him the first night. Cute.
Did you hear that? That’s me falling through the downward spiral I call my life.
So there you have it. The beginning of the end. I won’t bore you the details, however “The one who shall not be named” later married the Succubus and I have the pure pleasure of running into them every so often during holidays, weddings, etc. Too bad it’s not with my car.
You want to know about Shamus now don't you?