My First "Relationship"

I know that sometimes on this blog or in some of my posts on other social media sites I come off as smooth, cocky, self-assured...or flat out depressed, psychotic or what's probably the worst thing of all, mopy. But, that's not all there is to me. No, no. I like my good friend Shrek, have layers like an onion. ((I wish Shrek was my friend. If you see this, follow me on Twitter, Shrek. Please. Thanks.)) Let's take a trip back to the mid-2000's where skater shoes, keyboard phones and Fall Out Boy was king to where I had my first relationship. 

I was 15 and the only one in my group of "friends" who'd never had a date, boyfriend or had a proper kiss. Some age five kissing at someone's house didn't count for me, it was just childhood curiosity, not really any sort of attraction. I felt awkward, left out and ugly. Being bullied and having really no self-confidence, I was afraid to approach anyone that I even sort of like. It was toward the end of school, right before summer break when I looked up across the canteen and saw a pair of dirty-green eyes staring at me. It wasn't a comfortable feeling. I was used to eyes on me, but these, it set off alarm bells deep inside me. 'Move'. My inner voice hissed at me and I got up quickly and attempted to flee, but he was already in one of the corridors connecting the buildings.

"Hi. I'm Pete." My throat began to close up. "I..." I couldn't get words out. "I think you're cute. I've been watching you for a while." Instantly, I felt nauseated. This is what I was attracting. Jesus fucking Christ. "Do you want to go out with me?" "Not now. I've got a lab to finish." I smiled, brilliantly and sprinted up the stairwell at the other end of the corridor. Breathing against the edge of the wall, I was safe. If this is the kind of person that was interested in me, maybe I needed to change a few things. He had horrible tobacco stains on his teeth and was unkept. His clothes looked like they'd been slept in a few days at least. I didn't want to be lumped in with that crowd. And why would he be interested in me? I was obviously younger. 

>>>>
I felt his eyes on me over the rest of the week, but he didn't make further contact with me until the following Monday. I was at my usual table watching those around me eat, me pretending to be cool, sipping on a soda when he leaned over. "Do you wanna go out with me now? You don't have any work to finish now." I felt my ribs crack open and I clutched my German textbook for support. "I..." The two girls and one boy I was sitting with looked over at me. They wanted an answer just like he did. I don't want to be single. I don't want to be the one left alright. "Alright." "Come on, babe." He grabbed my hand and pulled me up and out of the canteen. "We should talk, get to know each other." 'Don't let him. Lie to him. Keep a shell life.' The voice hissed at me. 'You know just what to do. You've lied just like this before.' I smiled and told him things, made it seem like I was something otherworldly...and truthfully I was, but I was something from the underworld, not the heavens.

It was then that he leaned in to kiss me. I didn't want to, but I knew if someone saw this, they might see me as normal, rather gross, but not unworthy of a relationship. It might show them that I was adventurous and something available. I kissed him back. I didn't know what I was doing. I used my instincts. I kissed him hard, allowed his tongue into my mouth and allowed mine to venture into his. We broke apart as the bell rang singling it was time to return to class. We pulled apart and I felt a level of disgust that I'd never known ever before. I tasted of tobacco, orangeade and bacteria. I wanted to be sick. "You're a good kisser. I bet you've had a lot of practice." He kissed me on the lips and went down the hall while I ran to the second level toilets to be sick. I spent a good five minutes rinsing out my mouth, but all I could taste was disappointment in myself. I'd allowed the pressure of this to break me down. I was better than that. I slipped into the back of my algebra class and the girl next to me asked me where I'd been. This was my chance; cash in on the agony that I'd just put myself through. 

"What did I miss?" "What were you doing?" "I was making out with my boyfriend." Two others turned around. "You? You were making out with someone?!" "Yep." I smirked at them and turned my attention to the blackboard to copy down notes and the night's homework assignment. They all exchanged stunned glances and I felt like I was one of the group. I'd fucking showed them. I wasn't the ugly, weird kid they were used to seeing alone. I had someone.

>>>>

The kiss weighed on me the rest of the afternoon and through the night. What the fuck? Why did I do this? Why didn't I just have the balls to say no? Why did I make out with him? Why did I let him touch me? The idea haunted me as I laid in my bed that night, the events of the day washing over me. I had to tell him that I couldn't do it. The approval of my classmates wasn't worth the disgust I was feeling. It felt like I was suffocating I didn't want to be trapped. And it hadn't even been a full day. I needed to tell Pete that it wasn't what I wanted and if he wanted to fight me, I was ready for it. 

I would have texted him, but I didn't get my own mobile phone until I was 17 so I had to just wait for him to show up at the school entrance. Sure enough, he was there that morning waiting for me. He really had been watching me. Jesus Christ. I told him that we had to talk and I let it all out. He leaned in to kiss me and I told him no. "I just don't think this is right. I don't want to date you. This was a mistake." "Is this cause I'm a shit kisser?" "No, I'm not-I think of you as more of a mate, not someone I could have a romance with." He pulled back and stared at me for a few minutes. "Whatever you're not that hot anyway. There's plenty of other people who will want me." He threw his bag over his shoulder and wandered away and I felt freedom flood through me. I'd done it. I'd told him off and nothing happened. Part of me wished I'd gotten to punch him or something, but beggars can't be choosers. I wasn't bothered by what he said before he walked away. I knew it was just because I'd told him no and walked away. 

And that was it. My first "relationship". I honestly don't even think of this as a relationship. I call it a 24-hour mistake. Did I learn from this? Of course not. I must be fundamentally stupid on some level because I never learn my lesson. Each time I just keep digging myself a bigger and bigger hole. You know, fucking myself a little deeper and a little harder every time. Sometimes I'm excited at the prospects of whats going to happen next and then other times I'm terrified of the unknown horrors I'm going to inflict upon myself. 

What about you guys?
Do you guys have any first relationships or first date stories that are like this or worse? I've got a few others I can tell you, but we'll save those for when we need a good pick me up. Probably on April Fool's day because I'm always left the fool.
See ya next time. 

LINKS

Comments

  1. Well, my first kiss was on a windy day, and just as we we're about to kiss, all my hair flew into my face and I got a mouth full of hair and so did he!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular Posts