This is the hardest person for me to write about so far, not the most painful, but it feels difficult to keep things straight due to my emotional state and the games played over the two years we interacted. I am going to be as honest as I can through the haze of these memories and I am grateful for your patience. I know that what happened between this person and I is a big reason why I don’t trust myself in relationships, despite the fact that we were never actually together. I still blame myself for allowing someone else to drag me through so much unnecessary pain and confusion.
The first time I saw C he reminded me of someone I loved, but I’m still not sure who that was. I remember knowing that I would fall for him. He had the goofiest smile and this way of being that made you want to believe he was confident but still kind hearted. He was the new friend of one of my sophomore roommates, who I had also only recently met. I immediately had the urge to spend more time with this young man, and every time I would hear his cartoon laugh in the other girls’ room, I would drop what I was doing and try to find a reason to subtly join in.
Eventually we developed a friendship and intimacy. He would find me in the library or study room to hang out, joke around, or listen to music until the early hours of the morning. His favorite song to play at the time was “Love Hurts,” by Incubus. He would invite me to his room to eat fruity pebbles and chat with him and his roommate, who I was also close with for a brief period of time. He called himself a “bass player,” and “musician,” even after only a few weeks and a handful of simple, repetitive bass lines. He saw himself and wanted to be considered as being mysterious, brooding, and dark and it was easy to humor him, because I found it endearing and thought him to be harmless.
I was not even close to his only admirer, but I thought I was different than the other girls who garnered similar attention from him. I thought he and I had a unique bond and that he thought so too. I now know that all of these girls felt that way, and knowingly or unknowingly, he preferred things that way. This is a classic and traumatic case of being led on and then letting myself be the victim over and over again, even after knowing the truth. This is another case of a guy, not very conscious of others, and a girl unable or unwilling to protect herself. The feminist in me fights the urge to blame it all on him, but the young woman in me still can recall the vivid pain I felt. I can honestly say that this “relationship,” though it was never considered as such, caused me the most prolonged emotional pain and anger of any other partnership I have ever experienced.
The drama started almost immediately. I knew that my new roommate was very possessive of all guys she considered to be her friends. And so to keep her abated, we decided it would be safer to keep our friendship a secret. I wasn’t thrilled about this idea, but I also had a lot of trouble being assertive when I was younger, and so avoiding conflict in my living situation was all too tempting. I should have known better than to hide anything from her, even if I did not agree with her constant outbreaks of jealousy. I also chose to interpret his willingness to spend secret time with me, as further evidence of our special bond.
Instead of interpreting his actions as, “something important should not be secret….be suspicious.”
I chose, “He must think our friendship is going somewhere, but wants to wait until more is established to tell others.”
I saw what I wanted to, not what was there if I dug into the inconvenient truth. This continued for a number of months, through inside jokes about ducks, late night walks through campus, listening to Maria Callas, and me relying on him more and more for my sense of happiness. There were many scary emotional things going on in my personal and family life, and he was my distraction and comfort, along with my best girl friend at the time. I progressively saw and called him more and more.
Saturday, the day before Easter.
C texts me and we tease back and forth about our library dates.
He asks how I would feel about a date “outside the library.”
The sensation of my heart going over a roller coaster.
Is this it? Is it finally beginning to become something more?
I replied that I would love that.
One of the giddiest Easter days ever.
Picnic and pot luck with friends.
Feeling the luckiest.
For the first time in a very long time.
Monday I text a question.
So where should our date be?
What do you mean?
a very long pause.
The other day. Your text. I thought you were asking me out.
He claimed I had misunderstood.
Then I took the plunge, no longer wanting to wait after the previous excitement.
“Well then I’m asking you. Do you want to go on an actual date with me?”
(the first and still only time I have asked this direct question of anyone)
the long pauses are breeding and my panic is mounting.
“Look I really like you, but I could never do that to (insert my roommate’s name). It would hurt her too much.”
Do you like her?
No, but it would ruin our friendship if I were to date you.
And there is was. The excuse that should have ended the delusion and did for a time.
That night I dressed up to go to the Helen Hayes with my closest friend. She lent me a dress and took me along as her date. I have always enjoyed dressing up and could not have felt more glamorous. I soaked up every minute of being among the biggest theater artists of DC. I actually forgot what had happened earlier, as I danced and laughed for hours. When I finally looked at my phone I had missed some text messages from C.
The last, “Why aren’t you answering me? Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” my not so subtle response.
“I’m just checking after everything that happened earlier.”
Typical C thinking my world will fall apart with any bad news about him. I told him where I was and that I was having a great time, and none of it was a lie.
Eventually we went back to being “friends,” and I provided no emotional protection to myself. He would say how much it meant to him to be liked by an amazing girl like me. And he wasn’t lying. I later realized that I had much in common with my roommate and other girls who were always a part of his daily life. He got his confidence from being liked by the women around him, and would use questionable means to keep us around. I want to stake my claim by saying that I let this continue. I did not have to be the victim I was, but at the time I didn’t know another way. A long time after, he would admit to having knowingly let me believe that he had feelings for me. I’m not sure he ever really did.
One day I got a text from C asking me to come to his room, so off I rushed, not realizing that my roommate had grown suspicious and taken to spying on me. I had been happily sitting in his room for a few minutes when she suddenly knocked, came in and tried to play off that she wasn’t upset and that it was very natural to find me there. C quickly came up with an excuse for why I was there and off I went. My roommate got understandably angry in some ways, since we should not have been sneaky and I should have known better on my part. But she demanded we stop being friends, which surprisingly C would not agree to. So we continued to be friends out in the open, but in exchange my living situation became miserable.
My roommate eventually forgave C even though he insisted on still being my friend, but she would never agree to be friends with me again. She, along with most of her sorority sisters decided to turn against me and the harassment felt continuous. She would eaves drop and try to rush into my room to catch me talking to C, she would complain and say awful things about me so that I could hear them from the other side of my door, she wouldn’t let any of our mutual acquaintances speak to me, she left messes for me to clean up in the common space and sometimes in my room, and she would sneak in and take my food when I wasn’t home. I found out later that for months she had been stealing my journal and would read it out loud to her sorority sisters, fraternity friends, and even to C. It explains why he always seemed to know things about me that I had never told him and also meant that he had known about my feelings for him for quite some time. When I found this out almost a year later, it felt like a complete betrayal.
This turned into one of the darkest times of my life, when piled on top of my already substantial family tragedy. I was having constant break downs and was taking naps almost everyday, to then stay up all night. I would drink to much and take long walks around the city. Imagine me a slightly drunk, very thin, barefoot, 20 year old on a swing in an empty playground at 3AM, completely alone. I would sing and the sound of my own voice, coupled with the cool air, and motion of childhood would sooth me enough to return to my dorm room and drop into a deep sleep. It was a scary time that felt as though it would never end. C transferred to another college at the end of the year to my relief and sadness and my roommate never spoke to me after that. I went home for the summer to my family and three part-time jobs. Unfortunately this was another time I should have known to cut C out of my life and it would have been so convenient, but our story was far from over despite the distance.
The first time I saw C he reminded me of someone I loved, but I’m still not sure who that was. I remember knowing that I would fall for him. He had the goofiest smile and this way of being that made you want to believe he was confident but still kind hearted. He was the new friend of one of my sophomore roommates, who I had also only recently met. I immediately had the urge to spend more time with this young man, and every time I would hear his cartoon laugh in the other girls’ room, I would drop what I was doing and try to find a reason to subtly join in.
Eventually we developed a friendship and intimacy. He would find me in the library or study room to hang out, joke around, or listen to music until the early hours of the morning. His favorite song to play at the time was “Love Hurts,” by Incubus. He would invite me to his room to eat fruity pebbles and chat with him and his roommate, who I was also close with for a brief period of time. He called himself a “bass player,” and “musician,” even after only a few weeks and a handful of simple, repetitive bass lines. He saw himself and wanted to be considered as being mysterious, brooding, and dark and it was easy to humor him, because I found it endearing and thought him to be harmless.
I was not even close to his only admirer, but I thought I was different than the other girls who garnered similar attention from him. I thought he and I had a unique bond and that he thought so too. I now know that all of these girls felt that way, and knowingly or unknowingly, he preferred things that way. This is a classic and traumatic case of being led on and then letting myself be the victim over and over again, even after knowing the truth. This is another case of a guy, not very conscious of others, and a girl unable or unwilling to protect herself. The feminist in me fights the urge to blame it all on him, but the young woman in me still can recall the vivid pain I felt. I can honestly say that this “relationship,” though it was never considered as such, caused me the most prolonged emotional pain and anger of any other partnership I have ever experienced.
The drama started almost immediately. I knew that my new roommate was very possessive of all guys she considered to be her friends. And so to keep her abated, we decided it would be safer to keep our friendship a secret. I wasn’t thrilled about this idea, but I also had a lot of trouble being assertive when I was younger, and so avoiding conflict in my living situation was all too tempting. I should have known better than to hide anything from her, even if I did not agree with her constant outbreaks of jealousy. I also chose to interpret his willingness to spend secret time with me, as further evidence of our special bond.
Instead of interpreting his actions as, “something important should not be secret….be suspicious.”
I chose, “He must think our friendship is going somewhere, but wants to wait until more is established to tell others.”
I saw what I wanted to, not what was there if I dug into the inconvenient truth. This continued for a number of months, through inside jokes about ducks, late night walks through campus, listening to Maria Callas, and me relying on him more and more for my sense of happiness. There were many scary emotional things going on in my personal and family life, and he was my distraction and comfort, along with my best girl friend at the time. I progressively saw and called him more and more.
Saturday, the day before Easter.
C texts me and we tease back and forth about our library dates.
He asks how I would feel about a date “outside the library.”
The sensation of my heart going over a roller coaster.
Is this it? Is it finally beginning to become something more?
I replied that I would love that.
One of the giddiest Easter days ever.
Picnic and pot luck with friends.
Feeling the luckiest.
For the first time in a very long time.
Monday I text a question.
So where should our date be?
What do you mean?
a very long pause.
The other day. Your text. I thought you were asking me out.
He claimed I had misunderstood.
Then I took the plunge, no longer wanting to wait after the previous excitement.
“Well then I’m asking you. Do you want to go on an actual date with me?”
(the first and still only time I have asked this direct question of anyone)
the long pauses are breeding and my panic is mounting.
“Look I really like you, but I could never do that to (insert my roommate’s name). It would hurt her too much.”
Do you like her?
No, but it would ruin our friendship if I were to date you.
And there is was. The excuse that should have ended the delusion and did for a time.
That night I dressed up to go to the Helen Hayes with my closest friend. She lent me a dress and took me along as her date. I have always enjoyed dressing up and could not have felt more glamorous. I soaked up every minute of being among the biggest theater artists of DC. I actually forgot what had happened earlier, as I danced and laughed for hours. When I finally looked at my phone I had missed some text messages from C.
The last, “Why aren’t you answering me? Are you okay?”
“Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” my not so subtle response.
“I’m just checking after everything that happened earlier.”
Typical C thinking my world will fall apart with any bad news about him. I told him where I was and that I was having a great time, and none of it was a lie.
Eventually we went back to being “friends,” and I provided no emotional protection to myself. He would say how much it meant to him to be liked by an amazing girl like me. And he wasn’t lying. I later realized that I had much in common with my roommate and other girls who were always a part of his daily life. He got his confidence from being liked by the women around him, and would use questionable means to keep us around. I want to stake my claim by saying that I let this continue. I did not have to be the victim I was, but at the time I didn’t know another way. A long time after, he would admit to having knowingly let me believe that he had feelings for me. I’m not sure he ever really did.
One day I got a text from C asking me to come to his room, so off I rushed, not realizing that my roommate had grown suspicious and taken to spying on me. I had been happily sitting in his room for a few minutes when she suddenly knocked, came in and tried to play off that she wasn’t upset and that it was very natural to find me there. C quickly came up with an excuse for why I was there and off I went. My roommate got understandably angry in some ways, since we should not have been sneaky and I should have known better on my part. But she demanded we stop being friends, which surprisingly C would not agree to. So we continued to be friends out in the open, but in exchange my living situation became miserable.
My roommate eventually forgave C even though he insisted on still being my friend, but she would never agree to be friends with me again. She, along with most of her sorority sisters decided to turn against me and the harassment felt continuous. She would eaves drop and try to rush into my room to catch me talking to C, she would complain and say awful things about me so that I could hear them from the other side of my door, she wouldn’t let any of our mutual acquaintances speak to me, she left messes for me to clean up in the common space and sometimes in my room, and she would sneak in and take my food when I wasn’t home. I found out later that for months she had been stealing my journal and would read it out loud to her sorority sisters, fraternity friends, and even to C. It explains why he always seemed to know things about me that I had never told him and also meant that he had known about my feelings for him for quite some time. When I found this out almost a year later, it felt like a complete betrayal.
This turned into one of the darkest times of my life, when piled on top of my already substantial family tragedy. I was having constant break downs and was taking naps almost everyday, to then stay up all night. I would drink to much and take long walks around the city. Imagine me a slightly drunk, very thin, barefoot, 20 year old on a swing in an empty playground at 3AM, completely alone. I would sing and the sound of my own voice, coupled with the cool air, and motion of childhood would sooth me enough to return to my dorm room and drop into a deep sleep. It was a scary time that felt as though it would never end. C transferred to another college at the end of the year to my relief and sadness and my roommate never spoke to me after that. I went home for the summer to my family and three part-time jobs. Unfortunately this was another time I should have known to cut C out of my life and it would have been so convenient, but our story was far from over despite the distance.