B: A very long time ago, I had a relationship with a guy who was exactly the kind of guy who a girl of my age should not go for. We met online, he lived on the other side of the country, he was much older than me, he was into military business and had some serious family issues. Maybe I just wanted to cram all those experiences together and get it over and done with (even though my next two relationships started online and were long-distance). B and I started off as friends. We talked for hours. I think we were friends for two years and then "boyfriend-girlfriend" for one more. I'm not sure if that's the right amount of time because it's strange to think I could spend so many years talking to him. He was never a threat to me and he was a decent enough kid. Kid... I was 14; he was 19-20. Yeah... Yeah. He came to visit for a week, which was awkward and weird but ended up okay. After his visit, I went to NBTSC and when I came back, I broke up with him.
Once we were more than friends, the relationship started to go sour. He was extremely obsessive and possessive, which, of course, was not healthy for either of us. I don't remember much, but I suppose it might have been that I had to step up, be the mature one and end it. I don't like to include him in my "list of boyfriends" because we didn't really date. We talked to each other obsessively until I had enough of it, but I was called his girlfriend and he was my boyfriend, so I need to include him here.
"List of boyfriends" makes me sound quite whorish, so be aware that all my relationships have lasted 6+ months. =p
Sh: A couple of years later, I met someone else - also online but in a much more respectable environment. He was taking courses with FVDES along with me. FVDES has a program with which you can talk to other students and e-mail people. I thought Sh was interesting. I thought he was funny and smart, he was often well-dressed and he had something to him that really drew me. He was nice. We became friends. A few months later, after I awkwardly met him at his uncle's wedding, we decided to date (against the approval of his father). Once his father found out we hooked up, he began restricting Sh so much that he had to sneak out to meet me at 7/6AM. It was exciting, I'll admit. The relationship was long distance as well, so the restrictions made it much harder. Soon things began to worsen for Sh and he found himself unable to live in such a controlled environment any more. (Who could blame him?) We offered him somewhere to stay until he made other plans and he ended up staying for four months. That was too much for me. The entire situation was bad for our relationship, thus I ended it.
Sh was my friend, we hooked up, it didn't work, I ended it. We weren't on good terms for a while, but luckily that's changed now.
Sp: I once had a friend who I (surprise, surprise) met online through FVDES. He was fun and smart, and I enjoyed talking to him so much that we frequently stayed up late talking. I could tell him anything. He gave me really good advice that helped me through some shit. He was an asshole and I liked it. The no-bullshit attitude was refreshing. He made me feel good. He'll tell you that it was I who said "I love you" first, so all the "goodnight my love[s]", "I wub you[s]," and "<3 joo[s]" he would always say to me must not have counted. I wanted to be friends with him after we broke up because I really, genuinely liked the guy and I thought it was a shame to have him disappear from my life. After I read the things he said about me, however, having mainly reduced our 11 month relationship to "the sex was great," I started thinking about how we got to that point. When did it become just sex? When did it become "Just take your clothes off"? I investigated.
I looked through the chat histories of some early conversations we had and they were really great. I was laughing as I read and I thought we were so awesome back then. I guess that's why I got sad. I missed those conversations; it had been a long time since we had a decent conversation which, apparently, is my fault because conversations are one-way streets, naturally. I wanted to stay friends with him because I liked him, but remembering what he said to me after we broke up made me realize that he's not the kind of person I should be friends with. It is not healthy to be around someone so willing and capable of saying the kinds of things he said. I suppose that's what happens when you hear(read) what you want to hear(read). He's no longer trying to get in my pants, and, according to him, that's the only place he ever wanted to go, so why be nice if you're not going to get laid for it, right?
He seems to think I maliciously planned the breakup because I did it so soon after he visited, which is absolute bullocks because I had no idea if/when I was going to do it. I didn't sit in my dungeon at night plotting the best, most harmful way to end it, honestly. I wasn't happy, though, and he wasn't either since he "would have ended it soon even though vagina had been blinding [him]." I'd been thinking about ending it, yes, but I'd had doubts for a while already, as did he, I'm sure. The sex probably prevented me from doing it sooner too; that and the pain I was afraid to cause him. I was terrified of leaving because I knew what would happen.
At the rowing regatta I attended, I found myself thinking about Sp. I became very sad and I even almost cried, right up until I realized he probably wouldn't have been very supportive anyway. I remembered how shitty he made me feel when he said I couldn't do the Research Assistant job I was offered because I'm not good on the phone and I "sound like a 12 year-old." I've been working as a research assistant since January. I remembered how he never really supported me in anything, and then I was glad he wasn't there with me.
Instead of having his insecurities fade away over time, it felt like they were becoming more and more present. I understand where the insecurities came from: past relationships, past women who have done him ungood. However, it was not fair of him to think that I would do anything like they did and it was not fair to be constantly compared to or reminded of them, even when they weren't being discussed. I never was, and am still not, them. I am me, but he must have gotten confused about that at some point. I realize that a lot of the people he knew were unable to take care of themselves, or so he said, and he had to take of them. He had to make sure they were okay. He had to... they... I wonder if he was asked to, if he really had to, and what made him think I was "they." He created self-fulfilling prophecies out of his insecurities, which I do believe I warned him about. Worrying about me leaving him just pushed me away. It made me question whether he trusted me, for it really seemed like he didn't. It drove me nuts and it, consequently, drove me away.
Perhaps self-analysis would be more beneficial than the analysis of others.
I never wanted him to be my slave but he actually said he wanted to be. Afterwards, he said he'd found freedom in not having to text me all the time, in not having to talk to me every day and in not having to worry about me - as if it was my idea, as if I caused him to obsess over me. I never wanted that; he did. He said so. Lucy forbid I didn't reply to his text right away or I didn't come online without letting him know what I was doing instead. I mean, I could have been in trouble, getting raped, grocery shopping, or, hell, in the middle of something! The worst part about the texting was that I never knew how he was actually saying things. Was he kidding? Was that sarcasm? Is that a typo? This shit mattered.
I just realized that he was always worried about what I was doing, where I was doing it and who I was doing it with, yet he never told me about what he was doing even when I asked. "Nothing," was the typical reply. That really made me want to talk to him, share things with him, and hold a conversation. It also made me feel like he trusted me to make good decisions. Except not.
He treated me like a child; perhaps my size confused him. I told him how he made me feel, but it never stopped. He always made himself sound so much older than me, so much more mature, such a big man, such a protector. He did it when he commented on the "Boys" globulation I recently wrote. If I'm just like any other 18 year-old, then he's just like any other 19 year-old. And he is, regardless of what experiences he has under his belt that make him think he's that much wiser, bigger and better. Maybe his size confuses him. He spoke as though he knows me, as though he knows my mother, as though he knows everything about people, and as "good" as he usually is (good at profiling), he got it so wrong this time. He probably thinks otherwise. I said I was considering telling people I'm a lesbian so that guys who are interested in me would understand we'd only be friends and they wouldn't try to get in my pants. That's all. That's what I said. I didn't say I hate guys. I don't hate them. I know they can often be idiots, but I still enjoy their company. Girls can be idiots too. The point was, I don't want to be in a relationship right now. I don't want to lose more friends by getting romantically involved with them. He blew it out of proportion and had the nerve to publicly insult my mother too, which is something you never, ever do. Ever. Blacklisted.
Before I read anything he said about me, I was okay with how things ended even though I didn't really like it. I was okay because it went down pretty quietly. I was okay, but what he said made me angry and it made me sad. If he thought so little of me and of the relationship we were in, I wonder why he ever told me he loved me, especially so frequently. It made me sad when he turned things around because things didn't go his way. He took no responsibility. It was my fault. Everything. Always. He wasn't a contributor to the relationship. It was all me. I didn't talk to him. I didn't like it when he bought me expensive things because I'm a bitch, and not because I think money could be more wisely spent since it likes to play peek-a-boo: "Now you see me. Now you don't!" I didn't have a "freethinking mind"; thus, he had to enforce the "walk in straight lines" concept. I didn't have the ability to order food in restaurants so he always had to order for me. I could never make decisions about anything, so that responsibility was always left to him.
And that ^ , my globlets, is sarcasm...
Morals of the story: Don't get into long-distance relationships because they're never as good as short-distance ones and be prepared to lose a friend if you choose to become romantically involved with one. Also, just because he says he loves you doesn't mean that he really does or that you have to return the favour.