After Vincent, a woman I know introduced me to a guy. I don’t even remember his name, and he turned out to be a total asshole. I called him out and decided I deserved someone better.
That’s when I met Wayne. Charming, although he’s a bit of a nerd. He’s a food enthusiast, an athlete, smart & sociable guy. Our first date was great, but it turned sour quickly. I thought I was not gonna see him again but I figured that everybody deserves a second chance. He promised me that he won’t fuck things up again. So I gave him another chance. We hit it off quickly. We went on lunch or dinner dates, spoken word events. He asked me out with his friends.
After a while, I noticed that he brags about a lot of things but I thought that one trait doesn’t divine him. I stuck around. I met his family. He called me ‘his girlfriend’ in front of them, and they got me a nice birthday gift.
He wasn’t scared of being vulnerable with me, and with him I learnt that I could be vulnerable too. One night, he was out with his friends. Shortly before midnight he called me and asked me if it’s okay for him to stay over. He came to my place and told me he felt sick, as if someone had spiked his drink. He seemed agitated. He was just holding me, so tight. I learned that he was sexually abused by his nanny as a kid, and that his ex girlfriend cheated on him. I’ve been cheated on before so I know how shitty that feels. I grew fonder of him.
On our early days, I thought it was only a one night stand, or occasional friends with benefit. I became sexually active because of him, I didn’t really enjoy it cause it usually hurt, but at least he didn’t leave me after. Things turned out to be something else. I cared a lot about him especially after he started opening up to me. I just felt like I had to be with him, to comfort him, to protect and take care of him. I told him so many times that I was okay if we took things casually, but he wanted me as a girlfriend. So I did. I was his girlfriend. We went on dates and parties with the rest of the gang, we shared a new year’s kiss in front of everyone, had a picture of it. We made out in front of his friends. I was happy. He seemed happy. He went back to my place, we’d cuddle each other to sleep. We’d cook dinner, we jog together. I felt like I was whole.
One night after we jog, he excused himself. He usually came back to my place for dinner. That night he decided that he was too tired. I went home and I felt this sense of dreadfulness. I decided to sleep it off. I didn’t see him for a couple of days because he told me he was busy with school.
A few days later, having not seen him for days, I asked if he wanted to come over as I was cooking dinner. He said he’d come. He looked bad. As if he was hiding something. We had dinner and he was being so distant. I asked him what’s wrong, I sensed that there’s something wrong.
“I think we’re moving too fast,” he said, “I think I’m not ready for a relationship,”.
My heart broke. Of course, I thought.
“It’s okay if we’re just friends,”
“Sure.” he said. “I gotta go, thanks for dinner,” and off he went.
I was heart broken. I was so desperately wanted to be in love, and when I finally was, he just left. Just like any other guy. Days before, we got ourselves tickets for this spoken word poet and I wanted to go so badly. I asked him if he still wanted to go, as friends. He said sure. I came over to his place and he won’t let me in. We went for the event and I remember feeling this sharp pain on my chest. I asked him if I could at least have one last hug.
“We can still hang out,” he said, and we went our separate ways.
He won’t pick up my calls, he won’t explain anything to me, why he left so suddenly, I was shattered. I thought we had it all. I still had some of his stuffs at my place, I wanted to return them.
Finally one of his friend agreed to meet me, I asked him what happened and he asked me back. I told him what happened.
“He told all of us that you’re, uh, sorry, he said you’re a bipolar slut.” He proceed to tell me more, how I was not his usual girl type; I was too boyish & assertive. He said, Wayne is used to a more submissive girls. “Maybe you just came off too strong to him, and he couldn’t handle it,”.
I thanked him for meeting me and I left. I was broken. Being called a slut, even more, a bipolar slut. I blamed myself. A lot. I didn’t forgive myself. I thought I was dirty, that I was a slut. I thought, that’s it. I won’t ever find love again. I cried myself to sleep, the kind of crying that hurts so deep, where I could barely catch up with the breathing. I was just bawling my eyes out, alone. I didn’t leave my house for weeks. I wasn’t eating. I asked his friends how he was doing. Nobody wanted to tell me. I stalked his instagram, and there he was, going out on a date with a new girl. I hurt so much that I just gave up.
I woke up the next morning and decided I’d finally came out of my room. I opened the blinds and boy, it was blinding me. I was so used of the darkness. But that morning I opened the blinds, let the lights in. I stood on the balcony for a while. I felt the warmth of the morning sun. I felt the wind. Eyes still swollen. I made myself some smoothie. I got myself together. I decided that I won’t cry over him again. And I did.
part 2/2
