With Thoughts of Loving You – Part 2

It would be capricious for me to say that our horrid breakup was only caused by Ryan’s contentions. I have my own dark issues that I will tell you about. Ryan and I just came together at a time in our life where we were the most abstracted versions of ourselves. Before the year that we decided to move in together we had spent the previous summer apart.

This was because of me. I broke up with him as a way to push him aside to avoid my own demise. I was constantly trying to push him away because I was terrified of the deep love for him that had taken over my life.

When I came to college, I was like a typical bird flying free on my own. I could do whatever I wanted, and I did not have the stability of my family anymore. So like most 20-somethings, I learned a lot more of who I was.

First you need to know that I have a passive way of dealing with circumstances.

I imagine my soul as an ocean. Vast and deep, and every part affected by the circulating seasons. I have certain areas in my soul that I hold memories and build from new ones. Down in the lowest depth, live my most painful memories. It is very dark, nearly black, with silence so deafening. It remained still for many years until I fell in love with Ryan. 

Without stability, and the catalyst of alcohol all around me, cognizance from that dark valley started to come alive and bubble towards my surface. 

I am going to cut the metaphors and just tell you what happened. When I was 13 years old I snuck out one night with my friends and went to a house with a bunch of older guys to a party. My friends were more hardcore than me. None of them were virgins, and they not only drank but did some drugs with these older guys too. I never wanted to do drugs and I was not about to lose my virginity. Especially not to these older guys that made me very nervous at the time.

Side note: these guys were 18-20 and were perfectly aware that we were all in middle school. Fucked up isn’t it? 

So were at this party and having somewhat of a good time. I started to feel very drunk. I only had one drink so I assumed that the guy who had made it for me had made it extremely strong. He came over to me and while commenting that I looked a little drunk asked if I wanted to go to Taco Bell and make a food run for everyone, insisting that food would be good for me. He did not want to go get food. What I am going to tell you now is the last of what I can remember of the time I lost my virginity. Being 28 now I don’t think there was atypical “roofy” in my drink but something very debilitating.

The edges my vision became fuzzy and the world started tilting as we walked to his car.  The night became a nauseating ugly black with just a couple specks of streetlights. I felt sick to my stomach, I thought I might literally get sick. I tripped a little and he forcibly picked me up and pushed me onward.

We reached his car and I rested my back against it while he did something in the backseat. I wanted to run but my feet just wouldn’t move. Nothing would move. My limbs were so heavy they feel almost numb. My brain is frantically screaming to get them moving but nothing is happening. I was terrified, and my heart is racing, I was not sure what was going on, but I knew it wasn’t good. I opened my mouth to scream but there wasn’t enough air in my lungs for anything but faint breaths to come out. In a complete void of desperation, a tear ran down my cheek and I distinctively remember tasting a salty tear drop on my lips.

I remember the first part after he shoved me in the backseat, I had faint breaths of the word no, but he kept telling me it was going to be ok. I looked up to the sunroof at the stars that I could barely notice. I felt pain, physical pain on my front shoulders, and my legs. I wasn’t sure why I was feeling that pain.  I cried silent tears with no breaths behind them, I passed out, into a blank cold sleep. 

I woke up a little while later, dawn was just barely peaking over the horizon. My pants and shoes were on the floor next to me and no one was around. I noticed I was in a park close to my house. I took a deep breath, while still feeling very deranged, I gathered my clothes, got out of the car and headed home. 

I snuck upstairs to the bathroom of our large suburban home and I climbed into the shower with all my clothes on. I ran the hot water and sat there staring down at my shoes, as the warm water drenched my body. I looked down at my hands and formed a lose grip. Until I heard my mom knock on the door and tell me I was going to be late to school. 

Fuck. There was no way I could go to school like this. So I got out of the shower, dropped my clothes and wrapped a towel around my body. There were finger print bruises on my upper thigh near my pelvis that were a faint purple. There were some on my collar bone that were even darker. I stared at myself in the mirror and thought dear god I look shit. 

Staring at my broken reflection, I remembered what must have happened. In that moment I felt my stomach drop and my heart split through my chest, I wished so badly that I could die. Please lord let me die before I leave this bathroom. I cried quietly to myself which took all the energy I had left in me. Deep desperation filled up every part of my body, all my nerves, everything. I felt it all over. How… and why….. why. It was supposed to be special, and just like that in a wreck of my being my virginity was gone, never to be reclaimed, completely lost. 

I sucked up my tears, put on sweats and a hoody. I headed downstairs to where my mom was making breakfast and told her I was very ill and did not think I could make it to school. She took one look at my face and didn’t doubt for a second that I was. 

Luckily it was a Friday, so I spent the next 3 days pretending to be sick and sleeping in bed, I didn’t even want to watch TV. I sat staring at the window, my mind was so numb. I stared until my eyes were tired enough to fall asleep over and over again. 

After that weekend, I never spoke to those friends again. I put that memory into the dark depths of my soul and did not think of it again until I was in my 20’s. 

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