It would be capricious for me to say that our apocalyptic 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 aloof 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. 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 a mountain landscape. Vast and deep, and every part affected by the circulating seasons. I have certain areas in these mountains that I hold memories and build from new ones. Down in the lowest darkest valley, live my most painful memories. It is always dark, and an insipid fog hovers over the gaunt scenery. It is, by all means, a forbidden forest.
Without stability, and with the catalyst of alcohol all around me, cognizance from that dark valley started to escape. Their vector was heading right 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 loose 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. Lets just cut to the point, 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 dont think there was a 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 might 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 will 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 isn’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 wasnt 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 in a movement that felt natural at the time. 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 very noticeable purple. There were some on my collar bone that were a bit fainter. I stared at myself in the mirror and thought dear god I look shit. I went to the bathroom, and that hurt incredibly too.
I noticed a tiny blood stain on my pants, and in a moment 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. But I sucked up my tears and 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.
Luckily it was a Friday, so I spent the next 3 days pretending to be sick and sleeping in bed, I didnt 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 valley of my soul and did not think of it again until I was in my 20’s.