I had a friend in high school that was in love with a friend of ours. She wrote stories about him that were sweet and they always got married in them. He was nice about it but he was the kind of guy that slept around and was not interested in a relationship and he knew she was a ‘good girl’.
At a party after homecoming, he slept with her. She was over the damn moon. She followed him around like a puppy and thought that was it, they were finally together. He appeased her for a while but after a week or so of this, he pulled her aside and told her that he was not into the idea of being with one girl. She thought that was okay, as long as he would be with her, too.
Things got messy quickly.
He was sleeping with her and still messing around with whomever he pleased. She would call him at all hours of the night wonder why he was not answering her calls. She would show up at his house, his friends’ houses… eventually she showed up at my house (which was an orphanage, by the way), knowing that I had to know where he was. The staff at my house was displeased but seeing how upset she was, they let me defuse the situation.
I was the only girl in the house he had not slept with. I explained this to her. She thought about the girls she knew lived there and she looked ill. I went down the list of people I knew for sure he had fucked. He was not in this to get close to anyone, he was in it to “hit it and quit it”. Yeah, sometimes he was chatty and he was sweet. Sometimes he even dated a little bit. But he never got close to anyone. He was repelled by the thought, I told her. Women serve one purpose to him and one purpose only – to get him off.
She sat on the sidewalk on Smith Street in Providence and cried. I remember thinking that I never wanted to know how she felt right then. She had been used even though she knew exactly who he was. She thought that having sex with him, a friend would mean that he would love her. She thought if she loved him more than anyone else had, he would love her back. I did not know how to comfort her, so I gave her some LSD.
We were tripping in school and I told her that boys were gross and all we needed in life were good shoes and drugs. She agreed. I think I also decided I was a lesbian and I was going to live in London and write books in a tiny flat and smoke pot in a beautiful kimono. That might have been a different trip we had. They get mixed up. She cried on and off but she forgot why she was crying. She told me he had a small penis. I told her I knew, I had seen it a bunch of times. We laughed and got thrown out of class.
I decided that day that love was bullshit and I was not going to do it. Men were assholes no matter how pretty, smart or talented they were. Even if they were your friends. They would tell you gorgeous tales and share your grief and tell you how amazing you are and turn you on thirty ways until Sunday and they will take you to bed just to never talk to you like that again because all of those words were a fucking fairy tale. They say whatever they need to just to get into your knickers. They are not sensitive nor do they care. They can and will hurt you. Save your precious hearts and drop some acid and buy some good boots. Write the novel the beatniks have been snapping their fingers for, yeah? No good is here with men because they do not know how to love with tenderness because they have not been taught how. Even if you care for them, even if you curl your softness around their shards of one-night stands, you cannot heal them because, girl, they like to be hollow. It is the only way they know they are alive. Happiness is a fantasy to them that only hippies and influencers have because they are trying to shove it down their throats for a price. Loving them will only tear your exquisite heart to pieces and they would gladly stomp on the confetti’d remains as you sit in heap on the floor sobbing.
London is calling.
p.s.- Women are assholes too, I know that. I have heard stories of women cheating on “perfectly good men”. One of these stories I would also like to share.
A male friend of mine was being cheated on for the last three months of his five-year relationship. He was devastated when he found out. He could not figure out what had gone wrong. I was livid that she did this so I confronted her. Her side of the story was that he stopped paying attention to her. Every time she tried to get him to, he was busy or on the pc, or whatever. When she wanted to end it, he guilt-tripped her.
Should she have cheated? Certainly not. Was it a maliciously done act? No. People need to be paid attention to! If you do not have the ability to mind your significant other, end the relationship so they can find happiness elsewhere.
p.s.s. – I am writing this all out a few hours before I have to go in for surgery. You guys know how I get before a surgery day. My anaemia makes it where I could bleed out. My risks are higher than the average person. I know I will probably be fine, but just in case I am not… I always write letters to my loved one & I clear my mind of the garbage that is stored in it. If I do not die, I often delete the trash post or I edit the mess out of it.
…and with that, I hope this is not the last story I tell but if it is, it was not a lousy one!
Love you guys <3
this was the last “normal” conversation day I had with Eirik. It is some day in May that I am editing this. Just thought I would add this so one day when he and I are blissfully happy together (or we have totally forgotten each other), this day is bookmarked.