When I was 15, I was introduced to a much older guy with long blonde hair and a Volkswagon. I hated him. He drove me home from a party at OE's house one night and just sitting that close to him made my skin crawl. He was a cocky, sarcastic pain in the ass.

A few months later, though, we met again. This time, he was sweet and attentive and knew exactly what to say to make me get all 15-year-old crushy on him. A couple of weeks later, he was picking me up from work every night and letting me wear his jacket. My mom loved him. In fact, he would come over when I wasn't home and hang out with my parents and even though I was a kid and I didn't really know how to feel about that, I liked the fact that when I said I was going out with Jason, I had a later curfew and I didn't have to call and check in every fifteen minutes.

After a while, he started to change. He didn't want me to hang out with my friends without him so, on the off chance that me and LBG were on one of our neighborhood walks where we smoked cigarettes and gossipped, he accused me of "fucking the entire neighborhood". (Which was interesting seeing as I was a virgin and had no intention of even sleeping with HIM.) Soon, he was showing up at my job to make sure I wasn't lying about having to work. He would try and pick which friends I was allowed to hang out with because if they were too slutty, then I might become slutty. Because, you know, that shit is so contagious. He was out of control and being 15 and not having a clue what to do with a boyfriend in the first place, I got mad, but I stuck around. Because I was foolish and I didn't know any better. And I certainly didn't know about the three rape charges before he had even turned 18.

The physical incidents started really small. Almost unnoticeable, even. He would grip my hand a little too tight or, instead of putting his hand on the small of my back to gently GUIDE me, he would sort of push. It wasn't until later that it occurred to me that this might not be the ideal situation. And I won't get into detail here because, well, I don't like to talk about it, but the shame that I felt during this time was immense. When I went home with bruises on my arms and back from being thrown against the same Volkswagon where our first kiss took place, I knew I was in over my head. That night, he dropped me off and I wanted so badly to tell my mom, but I couldn't. We broke up the next day. As it turned out, after he dropped me off, he went over to one of my slutty friend's houses and...well...you can fill in the rest. And I honestly laughed my ass off when she told me at school. Of course I was mad but mostly at her for being such a skeez, I was over him and glad to be rid of him. But then came the incessant phone calls and the flowers on the door step and the showing up at my job every night. It got so bad that I actually had to stay at my grandparents house for a week or so...until he found out where they lived too.

The "showing up" happened for years. In fact, a month before I turned 20, he showed up at my job (I don't know how he found me) and stood outside, leaning against my car and waited for me to come out. He followed me all the way home, inches from my bumper, brights on. Since then, our run-ins have been fewer and less intense which I attribute to the fact that I am almost always with a group of people when I see him. Two months ago, only minutes after I met The Kid, he waltzed in to the bar and claimed the pool table next to ours. I didn't say anything for a while, but even TK noticed my demeanor change. He stared me down until I finally felt so uncomfortable that I had to leave. I haven't really been completely right since this day. Not because he did anything to me, because he wouldn't have. Not with all those people around, but because seeing his face brought back a lot. And the way that he was looking at me made me feel like a scared 15-year-old again. Because it wasn't just a casual look, it was the kind of look that says, "I know you're scared of me and I love it. In fact, I am going to go into the bathroom and..." It was creepy. And now I'm afraid that it is all going to start again.

1 comment:

shirley said...

oh NO!! I'm so sorry you have to deal with that psycho. **hugs**