(no subject)
Oh how life changes in such short time.
One minute, you're rushing home every evening to cook supper for the one you love, let the dog out, do the laundry, lounge around with six and a half T.V. channels (six and a half, because one always comes in staticy and is hardly used anyway.), the next minute, you're trying to fill your days with as many odd and end tasks as you can in order to ignore the fact that you have no one - not even the dog - to go home to.
For the past two and half years, I have submitted myself to a relationship that, while filing, was inexplicably wrong - as he saw it. I was wrong for him, he treated me wrong, my idea of committment and honesty and integrity - all wrong.
He did treat me wrong - I'll give him that, and I have not met a person yet who has disagreed, even when I rolled my eyes and said "He treated me just fine." That's the love talking though, right? Love can make you say and do some incredible things. Love can make you look back on your past and be glad it's your past. Love can make you smile in stalled rush-hour traffic when your gas gauge is lowering to "E." Love can make you try even harder for the person you love, even when the only time they hold you is in the dark, the only time the touch you is at their highest peaks in passion, and even when those passionate moments are so distant you can hardly remember when the last took place.
Submitted was the wrong word to use, actually.
I threw myself into the relationship after I knew it was what I wanted.
You see, I was a tough broad for a 20 year old. Southern, stubborn, and bitter from a past relationship, I had fended off cupid's arrows for a year a half, refusing to so much as bat and eye at a guy (except when I knew I could tease him long enough for a free beer at a bar.) But then, my best friend introduced me to a knew farm slave - with a warning that I never, ever, find myself alone with him.
While my best friend was like an older, protective brother, I was like the young, rebellious sister.
The boy I was introduced to was fascinating. Maybe it was Travis' warning, but it was also the deep dimples in his cheeks, the way his goldish-brown eyes gleamed mischieviously when he smiled, or looked at me, and the way he leaned in real close and told me that my hair drove him wild.
On the first night I met him, I drove him home since he was intoxicated.
"Want to come in? I've got two couches that fold out you can sleep on either one."
"No, that's okay, I should get back to the barn, I have to work in the morning."
"Ah, so do I. Come on, you can even watch my one channel - The Spanish Channel." He smiled - the dimples, the boyishly playful eyes.
"No, that's okay... I'v really go to-"
"Well here, let me give you my number"
-Insert the phone number exchange thing-
"Now you be sure you use that number. Tomorrow" He leaned in and kisses me, and I stayed immobile until he got out
I drove away knowing I would not use that number - not tomorrow, not the next day. I was protecting my heart from that smile of his.
I saw him off and on after that at different parties, but I was pretty scarce at parties that semester - having two jobs. I lived at a barn the next town over, in a small apartment above the horse stalls. I worked for my room and board, and he was in a similar situation at a beef and sheep farm. You would have never known he was a half-bred city boy had you met him then.
Three months after initially meeting him, we were together before a livestock show. Travis was fitting a few beef heifers, and the boy and I were watching, listening to music - but mostly we were flirting. We drove around in his truck that night, until four in the morning. We kissed, but at that point, I had already determined he would be nothing more than a kissing-boy.
The next night, after the livestock show, he invited me downtown with a few of his friends. Afterwards was the first night I stayed at his place, and the first morning I ever missed work. Now, don't go jumping to conclusions. I did not have sex with him, not then, not the next night. We did start spending a little more time together, as friends, though. It was like we were leaning on each other. I would just happen to be in town and he would call to say he was thirsty, but the old Toyota truck didn't have any gas in him.
So I'd bring him his favorite - a slushy, 1/2 Strawberry, 1/2 Watermelon. We'd stay up most the night talking about everything and nothing all at once. I learned all about his family in about a month, learned about his greatest passions in life - hunting, fishing, and his truck. Most importantly I learned why his truck was so important, which is something to personal to put on the internet, but its a part of his life that effects his perspective, a part of his past that he only talks about when he's had a few too many.
He would come over to my place some nights, since I had free satellite at that point. We would watch Aqua Teen Hunger Force and Family Guy (Those are a few of his favorites.), and some nights I would stay with him. We would kiss, but nothing more.
Until around Dec, we did nothing more.
And I'm ending this here, mostly because he just called - and now I'm focused on our latest conversation, instead of our relationship as a whole. It'd be difficult to go on honestly and at a steady pace - I was starting to go much too fast, anyway.