To the ones I’ve loved before (P.3)

“You want to share this with me?” I was staring way deep into the bonfire, my brain hazy when his voice pulled me from my head. I turned my head slightly to the left where his hand held half a chocolate bar out to me. I smirked. Oh this boy knew how to charm a girl. I didn’t love s’mores, but I sure loved chocolate.

We met in May 2013, at a summer bonfire through mutual friends on my first day back from my school in New York. My best friend was close with his best friend at the time and I have a sneaking suspicion he was brought there to meet me. I was 19 about to turn 20 and he was a year older. I had just finished a diatribe against traditional relationships for a small audience of my high school friends and meant every word of it. I wanted a handsome human (gender irrelevant to me) to take care of all my needs (amirite ladies), and teach me some lessons (I was dipping my toes into what would end up being my kink identities), with none of the silly entanglements involved. It was a good party. There were strong drinks and fun people, including him. He was charming and funny and, presumably as he went to an Ivy League School, very smart. We fed off each other and bantered and talked about school and abyss of the “after-school” time. We were propelled forward by jello shots and keg beer and at the end of the night he asked me for my number. I was playing designated driver to my close friend and plus one who was truly and properly hammered, slurring and stumbling and trying desperately to go home with a boy I went to high school with. While we were all saying goodbye to the hosts I stood in front of the boy I hardly knew and leaned backwards, tilting my head against his chest. He was warm and comfortable and clearly as into me as I was trying to be into him. His hand found the exposed skin of my waist and ran his thumb over it slowly, it was foreplay and we both knew it.

We wouldn’t actually have sex until much later, when we were officially an ~item~. I would stall the process as long as I could because, ha, I had unresolved traumas and also I wasn’t really into men anyways.   He was exactly everything everybody thought I would be with. He was a boy first and most importantly of all. He had goals and he had ambitions and he had a plan to achieve them. He went to a good school, he was polite, he loved my family and they loved him. I started to love him because I was supposed to.

But he was also manipulative, and controlling, and invalidated my sexuality and identity at every turn. He would get angry and attempt to forbid me to spend time with one of my best friends, with whom I just happened to have a romantic and sexual history. He didn’t understand or try to understand when I came out to him about my sexuality and also my various kink identities. He tried to understand how to handle me and my submissiveness.  He tried to listen when I spoke about my eating problems and my relationship with my dad. But he only listened to respond. He only listened because he thought he would have something constructive to say when in reality he liked to hear himself talk.

I didn’t respect that relationship at all. We had only been together for three months when I slept with someone else for the first time, and that continued for nearly a year. The day before I finally ended it I slept with two people. At the same time (post about them to come).

I like to think this series is a nice way for me to decompress from past relationships. I think though for particular person it’s helping me identify all the ways I did things wrong. It would have been so much easier and less hurtful for all involved. I knew when we got together I didn’t actually want a relationship. I knew that going back to school in the fall would be much more satisfying and fun if I were single. But he was exactly who I was expected to be with, I had to give it a chance. He was my last ditch attempt at being straight, and people what my family wanted.

I shouldn’t have used him in this way, especially since the end of this relationship hit him so hard for a while. I learned some lessons and we all moved on. Time will only tell I guess if I learned well enough.


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