Ordinarily Typical

Today I found myself so confused, bewildered, frustrated, and terribly sad.  But given that I take such pride in being tough and unbreakable I have every intention of putting this story into written words and being done with it.  I apologize to the few people out there in this world who actually read these weird little ramblings I create, this one is going to be a long one.  I need to rid myself of this ugly plot and the characters within it.

It started a few months back.  I can't even tell you exactly when because it was that insignificant to me. A text woke me as I was slipping off to sleep.  It wasn't real late at night or anything, I just used to have a normal sleep schedule.  This was before I decided to let my life spin out of control and sleep began to elude me. I didn't recognize the number but the mystery person was referring to a test in one of the classes I am in.  Puzzled I answered the question and asked who I was talking to.  I should have just answered the damn question and been done with it.

It was a guy from class who still had my number from ages ago when I helped him get a job at the store I used to run.  He was the last person I hired prior to quitting my job, so I never really got to know him.  I found it a little strange that a year later he still had my number.  After politely answering his question I turned my phone to silent, told my husband that I thought that was kind of strange, and let myself slip back into sleep.

I hadn't noticed that guy in class prior to that random text, which shows how observant I am. There were 55 students in this class but he sat right next to me. I probably should notice things more than I do sometimes.  I don't talk much on campus, I am a non-traditional student, and I am there to get it over with, but I decided it wouldn't hurt to have a friend in class.  I am picky, but he seemed okay.  Small talk led to little jokes since we had a mutual distaste for the professor and her pathetic excuse of a class that we were required to attend.  So for two classes a week I would see him for a little more than an hour.  We would make faces and mutter complaints to each other under our breath to make one another laugh. I thought once that he was sort of cute in a shy, borderline rough around the edges kind of way.  He is witty, which is a trait that I hold higher than most others, so that was the extent of any potential attraction.  He sent me messages once in a while, but nothing abnormal, and they were few and far in between.

One morning about a month ago, this was right in the middle of this my-life-is-falling-apart chaos, I got a text saying he wasn't going to make it to class.  I told him I would send him anything he missed and that I too almost didn't get out of bed that morning.  He told me to turn around and "hangout."  I was halfway into my commute, the same commute he does daily as well, and I distinctly remember thinking that it sounded like he was inviting me to come see him.  I reread the text, set down my phone, and continued driving.  Once I made it to campus I decided he didn't mean hangout with him, he just meant skip class in general.  I told him I was heading to class and silenced my phone.

Its been about three weeks now since the messages started coming more frequently.  The first real conversation we had was late at night and I was as sad and lonely as I usually am these days.  I hide this well when I put my mind to it, so our conversation seemed light and airy.  We play bickered over silly little non-significant things.  He eventually said that he was letting me win because he liked me.  My heart stopped.  I cannot even begin to express the panic that I felt.  I could not be finding myself in another one of these messes.  Still married, wondering if I could ever fix that mess, still sick to my stomach about the asshole next door, and now there is this guy.  Does he not know I am married?  I never take off my rings, but maybe he didn't notice them.  Had I never mentioned it?  Well hell.  I promptly told him I was getting tired and said goodnight.  He said to have sweet dreams.  I most certainly did not.  I laid in bed feeling dirty and alone.

I woke up to my alarm the next morning, and decided that whatever that was the night before, just needed to stop.  I took a shower, drank my coffee, and got ready for my day.  I found myself thinking about how different my life would be if I could just learn to make up my mind and be happy with whatever that decision was.

One thing is for sure.  I need to just do away with my cellular device.  It gets me into so much trouble.  That morning when it went off, I knew I was heading down a bad path again.  My heart skipped a beat in that cliche, disgustingly girly sort of way when I saw who it was from.  It was just a simple good morning text, but the conversation lasted all day and into the night.  We just talked, about our day, about our lives, about our little quirks, things quickly became warm, comfortable, and easy.  This went on for days.  I never got tired of seeing him pop up on the screen, and hours might have passed, but I never wondered if he was going to respond.  He always did.  Within a matter of weeks I felt unbelievably close to this guy I barely knew for real.  He never asked about my home life but it was killing me not knowing if he knew what he was doing.  It almost seemed like he was purposely skirting around it.  I didn't want to hurt him if he really didn't know.  I never thought I would feel anything for this guy, but I could tell he liked me,  When he asked me to come see him I knew it was time to bring it up.

He responded differently than I expected he would. He knew and he stated that he couldn't help that he liked a married girl.  I told him I couldn't see him.  But we kept talking anyways.  I liked that unlike the last indiscretion I had, this guy was more interested in me, then trying to get me to be unfaithful.  He asked me questions, told me I was funny, and finally asked me why I am still in a life that I hated.  I told him the most honest answer I have ever said out loud.  He told me he wanted to hold me, that I deserved to be held.  I told him I wanted that more than anything else.  And I meant it.

I really liked this person on the other end of the phone, but it was so weird to feel so intimately close to someone I barely spoke to a handful of times in a class.  He had missed several classes in a row due to outside class activities so I hadn't actually seen him in weeks.

I had to know if I actually felt what I thought I was feeling.  I told him I wanted to see him.  We made plans to meet up the next morning.  As I was falling asleep that night my head filled with all the possibilities of how the next morning would go.  What if in person he isn't nearly as attractive to me as he is to me from miles away?  Or worse, what if I did actually like him?  I was in the process of having a mental freak out session when my phone vibrated once more.
'Promise me you wont change your mind' was all it said.   I don't believe much in promising things, so I just told him I would see him bright and early.

But the next morning, he never showed.
He called me a few hours later and explained that he thought he could ignore that I was married but that he couldn't, he could not be that guy.  It shattered me, but he was one hundred percent right.  I am married.  What the hell were we thinking?  What was I thinking?  He apologized and I told him repeatedly that it was my fault.  I hung up the phone and just cried. I went to work a mess, I ran until I couldn't run any farther after work that night, and then just cried.  I was not just crying over this guy but my life as a whole.  I felt the loneliest and lowest I have ever felt to date.  I was rock bottom.  The boy next door fucks with my head, but ultimately there isn't much depth to him.  My husband and I love each other, but he doesn't know me anymore.  This guy knew me uncensored and not only didn't judge me, but accepted me,  and wanted me, broken or not.  I didn't want any of them.  I wanted to just evaporate out of my life.  I stood in the shower balling, using the noise of the water to buffer the sounds of my sobs from my husband.

I had already deleted our conversations.  I deleted his number and any other connections we had.  I didn't do this out of spite or to destroy any evidence of my swayed morality, but as a preemptive attempt to stop myself from being weak.  Some part of me knew, that if I really wanted to, I could still have him.  I could change his mind.  The rational part of myself knew, that although seeing him would make this pain stop temporarily, no good would come of it.  I would hurt someone no matter what.

When he messaged me that night I was both relieved and frustrated.  What does he want from me?  I had just spent an emotionally draining afternoon trying to find out how to put my life back together and now he is acting like nothing had happened.   I told him he needed to stop talking to me.  I made it clear that I am fucked up enough without him coming and going and that his logic was perfectly sound about not seeing each other.  I told him that he started this and then justifiably ended it.   His response was simple, he said he didn't want to come and go.  When I didn't answer he said, "I changed my mind.  I want to see you."  So I went to see him.  

It was there in his room that I realized that this boy is as fucked up as I am.  He is just like me.  He pretends to have his shit together, but is really just a mess. I missed it because I had so caught up in my own shit.   He was undeniably drunk and he asked me if I wanted to smoke some weed with him.  Not at all my thing, I said no.  He took a moment and just looked at me.  At first it was a look of indifference, but then his face went blank.  He looked so sad for a fraction of a second and then he smiled a little.  He asked me if I was judging him.  The question startled me, but I responded honestly. No.  How was I in any position to judge him?

I could see in him the same sadness that I carry.  Its something you can see in people like us, only when we slip up.  Its in the eyes.  He later would tell me that he takes medication to keep him out of these moods, but he doesn't take it the way he is supposed to.

He came next to me and sat down.  I watched him as he moved closer to me.  We had barely spoken more then a few words since I got there.  It was a little awkward and uncomfortable for me.  The few things that were said didn't sound or feel like they came from the same guy I had spent so much time talking with.  They weren't mean, but they were cool and distant.  The smell of alcohol poured off of him.  Despite feeling like I knew him better then most people due to our hours spent talking, I had never been that close to him.  I suddenly felt uneasy, but at the exact same moment he must have felt comfortable because he pushed me down and kissed me.  It didn't hurt when he shoved me down, but I was caught by surprise.  At first it was too much.  I was pinned a little, and he was kissing me harder than I have ever been kissed.  Panic washed over me.  I tried to push him off but he pushed back, not just with his lips anymore, but with his entire body. I tried to get my hands in between our bodies for a little leverage but he grabbed them and pushed them above my head.  He stopped and looked at me.  The panic that gripped my body eased.  He studied my face a moment and then kissed me again. This time it was less forceful, but I felt his urgency.  It became my own.  I pushed back again, but this time not in an attempt to free myself.  He tore at my clothes and I let him.  He stopped suddenly and just looked at me again.  We were both out of breath and I felt so vulnerable, not just because he was looking at my body, but I swear he saw and recognized that I have been drowning and that he was in some way saving me.  He came in close and whispered that I was beautiful.  I reached up to his face and traced his lips and then chin with my hand.  I smiled and kissed him softly.  That was the last affectionate moment we shared.

He apparently knew exactly what he wanted and he took it.  Not that I tried to stop him, but I doubt I could have if I wanted to.  It was good, don't get me wrong, just not what I expected from the quiet and shy boy from class.  I really liked it actually, it has haunted my mind ever since.

I left shortly afterwards.  He helped me find my clothes, but we barely spoke.  I kissed him as I walked out but it wasn't returned.

Since that night, we have spoken very little.  His texts now come to me drunk and depressing, when he bothers at all. When I finally asked him about it, he told me about the medication and the habitual drinking and drug use.  At first I tried to be supportive, but I could feel that even that was not what he wanted from me.

He started to tell me to come see him just about every night.  He told me the things he would do to me if I was there.  Part of me loved the images he put into my mind, because they reminded me of how I felt that night, alive.  But the other part couldn't get over that this guy is definitely more fucked up than I am.  When I say I can't see him he gets mean.  Every night the messages continued to get worse.  I played along initially, because it was sort of fun and I liked that he was being attentive again when I responded in way that he liked.  Gone were the innocent conversations, he never asked about my day anymore, and would give me one word responses if I asked about his.

Last night he told me I am a typical girl. I told him I didn't know what that meant, I knew why he said it though, but I was in denial that he could be that cruel.  I once told him I feared being ordinary, and he had told me that I never could be.  He told me I was weak.  I told him he obviously doesn't know me if that's what he thought.  His responses were designed to hurt me.  The things he said to me were all loaded words custom tailored by the things I have shared with him.

I stopped talking to him late into the night when I realized that whoever I was talking to was not that guy I used to talk to.  Or maybe that other guy wasn't real.  Either way, as I fell asleep, I knew that I would be seeing him in the morning for class.  One way or another, I would be able to see him and actually sort this mess out face to face.  It was our last class of the semester and we both had to be there to turn in our final papers.  

He came in and sat next to me.  He was clearly high.  He never looked at me.  Not once.  When he had to pass me a paper he threw it in my general direction.  At first I was pissed, but maybe he was a little right about one thing I am a little weak because I sent him a text as the professor was talking asking him if he was alright.  He looked at it and then shut his phone off.  I was shaking mad.  What the fuck?  In what world was this okay?

It was an agonizing hour.  I went back and forth in my mind about either wanting to smack him over the head with his notebook and wanting to slink under my desk and die.  How could such a dramatic transformation happen over the last few weeks.  I mean I am messed up and my moral compass is certainly off, but at least I am consistent about it.  How could this sweet boy pull me out of my shell, get me to actually care about him, get me into his bed, and then be this awful thing that is sitting next to me.  As the professor dismissed us I looked at him.  He looked at me for the first time since he fucked me.  He didn't expect to make eye contact with me, that much was obvious.  He looked so sad and fucked up, and in the next second cruel.  I don't know what my face looked like but I am guessing my emotions were written across it.  Shock.  Disbelieve,  Sad.  I left the room and didn't look back.  I drove home.  I waited.  

I am still waiting.  I don't know for what.  He has sent me several messages.  Each one wrecking me more than the last.  I don't think I am waiting for him, in fact, I know that I am not.  I think I am waiting to feel the way he briefly made me feel again. Or at least I am mourning the loss of that brief bit of hope he lent me.

So today, I am going to be who I know I am.  I am not typical, ordinary, or weak.  I might break down, I might let people get to me that I care about, but no boy, no matter who he is, or who I think he could be, will ever be allowed to try to convince me I am less than exceptional.