Relationships: Part 2, Rachael.
Welcome back. Before I go on I should point out that I am only including the women who made an impact on me, positive or negative. Like most people if I listed every date I have ever been on we would be here forever.
Rachael. . . where to start? I purposely don't like to think about Rachael; but she did have a hell of an impact on me. I met her through a friend of mine in the spring of 1992; I happened to field a call while a friend was practicing on his guitar and by the time he finally got the phone she told him that she wanted to meet me. I was sixteen, almost seventeen and still nursing wounds from Jenny. In retrospect I really should have waited. Anyhow, we met, liked each other, dated for a while and eventually wound up having sex (I will spare you the months of details). I was young and stupid and my hormones were break-dancing; otherwise I think I probably would have waited on that too.
Shortly after that she started to get . . . insecure. It manifested in the form of several faked pregnancy scares (later I found out that she thought it was the best way of holding on to me) which left me a nervous wreck. I started catching her in outright lies and eventually found out from several people and a good friend of mine that she had cheated on me with at least two other guys (and he was one of them). I lost a good friend over that.
Being the typical nice guy I broke up with her and just told her that I needed my space; not bothering to go into the real reasons. She went to another school and I figured that I wouldn't have to see her again. It was my first encounter with lies and deception from the fairer sex and I lost all interest in women, romance, sex or much of anything else for a very, very long time. I can actually remember being out with my best friend Danny on several occasions as a teen and his saying stuff to the effect of "Matt, oh man, look at that ass!" and I would just say "why?" nonchalantly and not even look up from what I was reading. I became bitter and cold. . . and I liked it.
Rachael. . . where to start? I purposely don't like to think about Rachael; but she did have a hell of an impact on me. I met her through a friend of mine in the spring of 1992; I happened to field a call while a friend was practicing on his guitar and by the time he finally got the phone she told him that she wanted to meet me. I was sixteen, almost seventeen and still nursing wounds from Jenny. In retrospect I really should have waited. Anyhow, we met, liked each other, dated for a while and eventually wound up having sex (I will spare you the months of details). I was young and stupid and my hormones were break-dancing; otherwise I think I probably would have waited on that too.
Shortly after that she started to get . . . insecure. It manifested in the form of several faked pregnancy scares (later I found out that she thought it was the best way of holding on to me) which left me a nervous wreck. I started catching her in outright lies and eventually found out from several people and a good friend of mine that she had cheated on me with at least two other guys (and he was one of them). I lost a good friend over that.
Being the typical nice guy I broke up with her and just told her that I needed my space; not bothering to go into the real reasons. She went to another school and I figured that I wouldn't have to see her again. It was my first encounter with lies and deception from the fairer sex and I lost all interest in women, romance, sex or much of anything else for a very, very long time. I can actually remember being out with my best friend Danny on several occasions as a teen and his saying stuff to the effect of "Matt, oh man, look at that ass!" and I would just say "why?" nonchalantly and not even look up from what I was reading. I became bitter and cold. . . and I liked it.