I suppose this requires some explanation. I did have a boyfriend before Adam. We met at camp. He seemed nice, and was very nice looking. The second year I came to camp, he was also the only friend I had. So I developed a crush on him, and one night around the campfire, I let him put his arm around me, even though I didn't get any particular thrill from it. Things escalated from there, until no one at the camp even knew us seperately. He absolutely worshipped me. When he looked at me, his eyes seemed to expand, and I swear he wouldn't blink. When he touched me, he acted as if I were something extremely valuable and fragile. He basically only stopped touching me when we were forced to go to our seperate cabins at night, as if he were afraid he would loose me if he let me out of his sight for too long. He seemed to think he didn't deserve me as his girlfriend - Every minute of every day it was as if he could not believe his luck. I remember him shaking a little, even, the first time he kissed me - on the shoulder. But I really didn't feel for him. I mean, I liked him, but he loved me, and when he told me that, on several occasions, I couldn't truthfully say it back. I couldn't for the life of me understand why I didn't feel for him, but I didn't. I went along with it only because... it feels good to be worshipped.
We spent a lot of time on the beach. This is where we first kissed for real. He had his arm around me, and we were watching the sunset. (Honest to God, how much more clichÈ can you get?) This kid came over and talked about how the PDA was emotionally scarring. Then Mark smiled a little and said "Want to really emotionally scar him?" But his eyes were serious. He was really asking me. And I said "sure." And I didn't enjoy it. Really - I got nothing out of it. I was fine the rest of the time we were at the beach, but when we got back to camp, I panicked. This is where I threw up.
See, I can't stress enough that HE ASKED PERMISSION. I was not... "taken advantage of." In fact, every time after that, he asked permission. Sincerely. He respected me, and if I'd said that I needed personal space (as I had on a few other occasions,) he would have jumped away from me as if he had been hurting me. But every time, I said yes. I didn't panic after the other times. In fact, the last time, I enjoyed it a LITTLE. But I knew I didn't enjoy it the way you're supposed to. Not even close. I broke up with him in September. I broke his heart, and I know it. It sucks, but it was really the only option. He used to call me once a week. Now it's more like once a month. This was LAST SEPTEMBER. Like, A YEAR AND FOUR MONTHS AGO. And he still calls me. And I still don't have the heart to tell him to stop.
Loading comments...