Originally published at Skyspun.org. You can comment here or there.
Day 8 > Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
As a whole, my life has been filled with people who have been unconditionally supportive and full of love and respect for me. Of course, no one is ever perfect, but I’ve never really felt eternally “wronged” by someone… There is a person, though, who will forever be in my head as someone who scarred my heart.
I was in my previous relationship at the time. There were still a handful of guys that I had met before I met my boyfriend at the time who I kept in touch with. One of those people was Army Guy. Although he was local, he was stationed in Iraq at the time of our friendship. We would speak on the phone a lot, and talk online via Myspace messages. He was a sweet guy, although very lonely.
Shortly into our friendship, he came back home, and asked to meet up with me. I didn’t seem the harm in getting coffee with him… He seemed genuinely interested in being my friend. So, I made plans with him, and he came to my house to pick me up. I actually even introduced him to my boyfriend at the time.
It was a bad idea. He flirted and tried to kiss me. It got worse, and I told him to take me home. I sat in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window in a rest stop on the side of the highway while he begged me to watch him. I refused. I told him to take me home again. He told me he would just finish himself off if I didn’t watch anyway.
I wasn’t even angry until I got home. I think once the shock wore off, I let my real emotions show. He tried to apologize and tell me it was just that I was the first female he was with since being in Iraq and he just got carried away. He was wrong and he knew it and he just wanted another chance to be my friend.
This is when he took advantage of my kindness. My ability to try and see the good in people and give people second chances.
He did not deserve a second chance, and I will regret that forever.
He took me to dinner. I remember he flirted incessantly with the waitress, which shouldn’t have bothered me, because I was in a relationship – but it did. I remember being wary of the entire situation, and feeling somewhat distant with our conversation. After dinner was finished, we walked back to his car. It was dark out, and I remember I suddenly was getting cramps in my stomach. I had leaned the seat back and was holding my stomach while he tried to massage it. I told him I should just head home, because I wasn’t feeling very well.
“Why don’t I get a motel room?” he asked me. I vetoed that idea in an instant. No, just take me home. Just take me home. I think I should just go home. Home. Home.
He started to drive. “Nothing will happen. It’s just to talk,” he kept saying. I kept saying it was a bad idea. Please, just take me home. I’m not going in a room with you.
He parked in a motel parking lot. “I’m getting the room whether you come in or not, so you may as well.” He got out of the car. I yelled out after to him that I wasn’t going in. I sat there as I watched him walk into the lobby. What the fuck do I do now? I was in a parking lot somewhere after dark with someone I wasn’t even really supposed to be with. My boyfriend didn’t know I was with him. Where was I supposed to go?
I went to the room.
He never hurt me. He never restrained me. He never physically forced me.
But he guilted me. He trapped me. I had nowhere to go. I felt like I had no one to call. I cried. and cried and cried and cried. I did it to end the night so he would take me home. I just wanted to go home.
On the way home, tears staining my cheeks, watching the headlights pass out the window, his hand found its way to my thigh and he rubbed it sympathetically.
“You’re not a bad person. If you were, you wouldn’t feel so guilty about this. He’s a lucky guy.”
I hate him.