I digress.
Instead of giving a lengthy overview of the past 17 months (because let's be honest, no one wants to sit through that), let me give a few key points of interest:
- Quit old job with Boy. I was within an inch of stabbing someone, and the last thing I need on my record is attempted murder. Incidently, Boy quit. I am now working at a private club as a slave, Boy is head cook at a rehabilitation center.
- I enrolled in school, completed my HS credits, and am now in my second year on the Pre-Pharmacy track in college. An entirely new realm of head fuckery, but that's for another post.
- Visited Arizona this past Summer and ended up sending my mother on a bus for Tx, fighting with my incompetent father, and staying with Boy's mother for the remainder of the trip. As much hell as I went through last Summer, the highlight? 95 lbs. Yes, I know I'm fucked in the head. That's been established.
- Boy's mother, sister, and best friend came to visit this past May. Did I mention Boy's best friend (we'll call him L) and I were hooking up while Boy and I were long distance? Don't judge me. Well, it'd been 2 years since I saw L, and much to my dismay, while he was here for a week.. let's just say old habits die hard.
- I'm back on drugs. And fat. Again.
Calm yourself.
I should preface this by saying, since I moved from Az and in with Boy two years ago, I have been 100% faithful. I became a different person when I moved up here. Vastly different than the shred of a girl I was before. During Boy's and I long-distance portion of our relationship (1 1/2 years) I was still the same girl he left in Az. Boy and I started "dating" when he had officially moved away from Az. We had a maximum of 4 days total together, introduction included, before he left. I'm not sure if it was a desperate attempt to keep some semblence of a human relationship, or sheer insanity on my part, when I agreed to enter into relationship with Boy, never knowing if we would ever see each other again. I'm betting on the latter. Regardless, I agreed and hence Boy's and I faulty relationship began.
He moved away. And I was still stuck in the hell that was my current life. Constant partying, 24/7 drug abuse, (which makes for some interesting stories, but I'll save those for later) a very high level of promiscuity-most likely due to previous sexual abuse- and in a idontgiveafuckgivemeanotherline type of mindset. Twas bittersweet. Nevertheless, I was still where I was and Boy was no longer. Of course, like with everyone else, I put on a happy face and fed him just the right lines to have him believe that I was littlemisshappyfaithfulgirlfriend. HA.
In an attempt to not drag the history out for another 8 paragraphs, I'll just summarize that I ran in the same circle as Boy, even before I met him. (Boy lived elsewhere this entire time and I just met him when he came to visit for a month before taking off again). Confused yet? Hang in there, it'll make sense eventually. Now, just incase you aren't convinced i'm a slut yet, let me add the fact that I slept with not one, not two, but 3 of Boy's close friends. STFU I didn't know him yet! I knew I was a hot commodity in this group of friends, and I relished that fact and milked it to the fullest (drugs, rides, and quickies). Trust me, I hated myself as much as you probably hate me right now. I digress.
L was not one of these friends. In fact, L and I didn't even talk to each other. Sure, we were around each other every fucking day, but L was never on my radar. Why? L was the type of guy that I would have never even considered would give me a second look. He was so far out of my league, that I didn't even try, in attempt to save myself from the inevitable rejection and humiliation that would closely follow. In all the 2 years I knew L, prior to Boy's appearance in my life, I never saw L with another girl. I figured he just kept his personal life under wraps, or given my luck, he was gay.
If I had a specific type of man I preferred, L would be it. Perfection from head to toe. Perfect hair. Perfect skin. The cutest nose I think I've seen on any human being, and eyes you could get lost in for hours. Did I mention he moved to America from the UK? I am such the anglophile. Despite all this, he is the most intelligent man I have ever had the good grace to be associated with. He has the same dark humour as me, and often communicates via quotes from movies and tv shows. OH MY GOD he is perfect. I try and rack my brain to find even the smallest imperfection in L, and I always come up empty-handed. So yeah, needless to say, I never would have thought he would give me a second look.
Remember how I mentioned my luck earlier? Here is a prime example of how it operates: Boy leaves. A week later, I get L's number. Nothing scandalous, I just needed some drugs, and my Guy was otherwise incapacitated. Soon, our routine drug exchanges turned into something more. Next thing I know, I'm meeting L in a park nearby and engaging in a twisted form of adultery. This continued on for a year at least. He would visit me after work and we would do unmentionables in the laundry room of the apt. complex down the street from my work. (I see you giving me the side-eye again) Throughout, I was also sporadically hooking up with no-names on the side. Given the platonic nature of the "relationship" between L and I, I saw no problem with this. He wanted sex, and my weak-willed self could never turn down his perfection, thus I gave it to him. L had never given any indication that our engagements were anything other than purely superficial, which is why I was taken aback when he professed his love for me. I handled it like the cold-hearted bitch that I was; I went about my merrily way, scattering his feelings on the ground before stepping on them. Our pseudo-romance ended abruptly and without closure. (I never felt the slightest bit of guilt for L or any of the no-names, funnily enough. I think the area of the conscience that facillitates guilt was clouded by mass quantities of MDMA) Boy never found out.
Fastforward 2 years later, I hear L is coming to visit. Heart stops. Blood curdles. Stomach spins. There is no way in hell he's coming. He hates me. Lo and behold, come May, I hear L is officially on his way to our house. My nervous system shuts down, my brain ceases to function, and all I can think about is L. My plan was to politely avoid him. Plan went to hell. The moment I saw his face, it was over. I was his. Every feeling I had previously suppressed with my impressive drug collection had surfaced. Fuck. We avoided each other successfully for the first few days. The sexual tension was unbearable. We slowly gravitated towards each other and had the most amazing, thought-provoking conversations I've ever had with anyone. One day, while Boy was at work, I skipped school and stayed with L. The moment he kissed me, it all flooded back. It felt so right, so natural. Double fuck. And we did it.
He left. Not without exchanging numbers, and we've texted everyday since. He says he loves me. I say I love him. I feel like I'm right back where I was 2 years ago, progress shot to hell. He says he'll come back for me. However, when that day comes, I know I'll have a choice to make. I just don't know what I will choose.
Lengthy post, I know. I owe it to you after disappearing for so long. In other news, I'm fat and plan to starve myself the rest of the day. Oh, and incase you haven't figured it out yet- I'm also a slut.
Satansvomit.
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