You can read part one here.
Not only did I get in trouble with my parents for skipping school that day, but I also got in trouble with the school. I ended up getting detention after school. It was in that detention that I met the boy who would factor heavily into my life spiraling out of control a couple years later. His name was Justin.
At first we were just friends. We would hang out after detention waiting for our rides home and talk. One time we were talking about what brought us to detention, and I admitted for one of the first times that I had been raped. He was upset about what had happened to me.
We would see each other in the hallways between classes and stop and talk for a bit, but that was all there was until we started talking on the phone. At some point he became more than just a friend to me and I started to try to talk him into dating me. He was interested in some other girls at the time though, so he was reluctant to date me just then. But we continued to talk on the phone, and one day I went over to his house to hang out. We were in his room, listening to Led Zeppelin on an actual record player and then he kissed me.
You would think that that would be when we started dating, but you’d be wrong. Even after that I had to bug him about being my boyfriend, he still thought that he might have a chance with one of the other girls he was interested in. One afternoon while we were hanging out he finally made a decision though. He had been quiet for a while and I was sitting there letting him think, and then all of a sudden he said “Fuck the other girls, I love you.” And then he kissed me.
From that afternoon on for the next 2 or so years, we were inseparable. If we weren’t actually physically together, we were on the phone with each other, if we weren’t at school or work. I was in love, and I had fallen hard.
Things were good at first. He was sweet and loving, but slowly things started to sour. My friends weren’t happy with my relationship with him, but I couldn’t see why. They felt like I spent too much time with him, that it wasn’t healthy, and that he really wasn’t a good guy. Looking back now, I can say that my friends were right.
It was the fact that he said at one point that he wasn’t sure if he could call me beautiful. Then there was the fact that he would keep track of sexual acts and tell me when I owed him something. And then toward the end the fact that he thought that he could have sex with me whenever he wanted it, no matter what I thought, without even asking first. He was the first guy that I told about being raped, and he saw no problem in raping me himself.
And even with all of this, I still stayed with him. I thought that I wanted to stay with him forever. But he had other plans. He decided that he no longer wanted to date me the summer after he graduated high school. The summer in between my sophomore and junior years of high school.
I had just come back from a weekend family vacation and we were hanging out at his house. Everything was fine and normal, until all of a sudden he tells me that he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. I lost it. I cried and begged and pleaded with him, but he wouldn’t change his mind. I remember that he went downstairs to have dinner with his family and left me alone in his bedroom. I don’t remember if I actually hurt myself or not, but when he came back he found me contemplating trying to commit suicide with the only sharp object that I could find in the room, some pushpins. I eventually calmed down some and he claimed that we could still be friends, that we would still be best friends. He even came over to my house the next day. But then everything fell apart.
While he was at my house, we ended up making out and I was hopeful that I might actually be able to convince him to change his mind. And then the phone rang, and it was for him, and he was leaving to go and hang out with some of his friends. And then he was gone. There was no friendship, he was just gone. One day we were talking about our future together and the next he was no longer a part of my life.
I couldn’t accept that he wasn’t coming back though. I was obsessed with finding some way to get him back. I had grown obsessed with him. He left, and my entire life fell apart around me.
To be continued…