From Wolf's Perspective
Wolf writes, "However, it's not all fun and games. She has cheated on me - for god only knows why - with her ex, Hyena. She wants me to allow them to stay in contact with each other."
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I wrote, "I am in awe. I am in awe of the miracle of his life, his steps, his body, his mind, his spirit, his energy, his talents, his thoughts. I am in awe of the beauty he holds in every aspect of his ways. I am in awe of my audacity to challenge him. Why would I push what is already been pushed as far as it can go?".
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February 3rd 2004
Nuria: Age 15
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Wolf writes, "Sup, Wolf here. I am at my girlfriend's house, typing at her computer. I am 18, out of school, jobless, and living with my mom - "white lady". I babysit my 20-year-old brother's children during school time while my brother sleeps. He works nights and has a three year old daughter and a one year old son. So much to say. Some - no, most - I can't say here."
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"What, because of me?" I asked.
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"Slow fingers," Wolf replied.
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"Today I took in one hand my girlfriend's ass in the other her best female friend's, Beaver. Nothing happened. Well, except for me and Beaver in a sexual positions. Before my girlfriend's Dad walked in on us (whoopies). With Nuria I get tits, and Beaver is the ass, but neither are "big booty bitches." My girlfriend keeps on grabbing my dick, even though she is on her period and we can't do anything. Can't fuck anyway, she's got other holes though." Wolf wrote.
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"What brings this up?" I asked.
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"After that was freaked out again by her bi-male-pal," Wolf writes.
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Nuria notes that it took Wolf fifty-one minutes to type the above. He went on to write:
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"However, it's not all fun and games. She has cheated on me - for god only knows why - with her ex, Hyena. She wants me to allow them to stay in contact with each other." Wolf then adds, as if to clarify that his joking about Beaver is quite different: "There is a difference - with the two extra people there. Nuria encourages me to play around with Beaver. But she did a lot more than that with Hyena, and it was behind my back."
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I felt remorse to an extreme degree. When I had slept with Beaver, knowingly cheating, I felt so guilty I stopped after a minute or two. I saw Wolf crying in my mind's eye and it hurt beyond belief to think how I was hurting him. Years and years later it still upset me to recall.
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At the the time of Wolf's writing this I wrote, "No one has any idea how much I regret cheating on him, nor how much I want to take it back. There were things that were just unsure in my mind. My reasons are just. My actions were not. I am sorry."
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A few days later Wolf wrote: "Bored, Restricted, Bored, Sleepy, Bored, Sexually Frustrated, and did I say I was Bored? I wanted to stop home, but - no, the white girl said, "No!"
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I wrote, by way of explanation, "Wolf wanted to go home to get the bottle of Devil Springs that I gave to him, that Beaver had given to me. I had given it to Wolf because I decided I didn't want something that strong; I want some wine, some whiskey, you know? Vodka is great and all, but the taste is just so hard to get over. And I gave it to him, cause he can take it; he can control himself, he can handle the responsibility and the taste. And I felt like - I don't know - I just didn't want to see it again."
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February 9th 2004
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"Oh my God! So confused, so verry verry confused. Good idea, bad idea; is there a difference? I could tell you to ask Nuria, but I doubt she could answer correctly," Wolf writes.
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"What the fuck is he talking about?" I wrote.
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"Like she don't know."
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"Oh. That."
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"Right now she just finished touching my nipples... So I will start ranting from there," Wolf continues. "Back at her birthday party - a week and a half ago - she and a guest, Ivy, lay on either side of me," Wolf wrote. At that point I started typing for him since he'd already been at it for nearly twenty minutes. "Nuria decides to pull up my shirt, and suck my nipple."
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I could remember that day. Beaver and Hyena were both there, as well as my nephew, a girl from my dance class and another girl I didn't really recall who Hyena was trying to get with.
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One of the guests, perhaps the girl I don't really recall, suggested we watch "Scary Movie," a highly bad comedy. I didn't know what it was about and said "okay." But five minutes into it I thought it was a terrible movie and didn't like it all. But even though it was my birthday party, everyone went on to watch it together, including my mom. Then my mom went to bed or at least into another room.
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We'd done a lot of silly things that night. Ivy had suggested going outside and flashing people who drove by. So we did. It felt liberating to be showing my ass with friends to random passersby. After those events, the following events occurred as Wolf describes:
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Ivy asked, "Is that fun?"
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Nuria answered, "Mmmhmm," cheerfully.
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Ivy then asked, "Can I try?"
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Nuria answered, "Knock yourself out."
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Ivy pulls up the right side of my [Wolf's] shirt, and begins to lick my other nipple. After a few minuets of this, Nuria decided to point out the fact that my penis was erect. And then says, (referring to my dick) "Look, curvy... In a good way." Then Nuria winked at Ivy.
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More nipple-sucking continued. Before I knew it, Ivy's hand was on my penis. Soon to follow, each leg had another leg on it... Ivy leaned in and kissed me. Then Nuria turns on the TV so Ivy can watch her "Clay-Booty-Akin." *caugh*homo*caugh*
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Nuria butts in to write, "I turn back around, and she's fucking on top of him, my fucking spot, fucking, fuck, fuck."
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Wolf writes: "This is my fucking story bitch, butt out."
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Nuria replies, "Yeah, but I'm the one who can fucking type, Bitch."
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Wolf replies, "Look, poon-face, it's okay for you to make comments, but I tell the story, fucking ass-belonker." Wolf continues:
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Anyway... While the TV was being turned on, Ivy straddles me - clothing on - and I am pretty sure this was to get a better view of the TV since we were laying right under it. A commercial comes on. Ivy leans down and kisses me again...
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Nuria comments, "Holds down rage..."
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"Two minutes later Nuria leaves," Wolf writes.
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"It was less than that," Nuria says.
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Wolf continues: I actually watch the TV for a little while with Ivy still on me.
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Nuria comments, "I was moping in my mom's craft room, sulking. I was hurt but I couldn't cry to let it out. I felt like I owed it to him."
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Wolf continues: Ivy gets up to go find Nuria, comes back, and says that she can't find her.
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Ivy said, "She's not downstairs, or up."
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I get up, and the first place I go, is to her bedroom. She's not there, nor the bathroom, so I check the kitchen. No Nuria. Then I check the craft room and there she is. ("Still trying to cry," Nuria comments.)
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I try to comfort her, not knowing at all what to say, followed by Ivy doing the same.
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Ivy asks, "Are you mad at me?"
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Nuria shakes her head.
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The same situation seems to occur over and over again, without nipples, or "Clay-Booty-Akin." It's a cycle where in the living room, she runs off, we go get her, over and over and oh-god-over.
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At some point Ivy asks, "Are you guys together or something?"
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And I told her the story of us. Except, I've told it by my point of view - the right one. Ivy then apologizes for what she was going to do, or at least, had the intention of doing earlier. At this point, Ivy asks if there is anything she can do to make Nuria feel better.
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Nuria points at Ivy and says; "You, go in the living room," then points at me and says, "You stay here and fuck me."
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Ivy leaves, and, in short terms, I say, "No."
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I, after finally squeezing past her, go back into the living room. Nuria then cries.
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Everyone's lying in the living room, except her, who is still in the kitchen. At some point, Beaver pulls the covers off of me and Ivy, thinking that we were fucking. He was surprised and laughed - we were still wearing clothing.
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Everyone suddenly asks, "Is that a tea kettle?"
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Except me, who answered, "No, she's in there crying."
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Ivy and I get up and check on her. Everyone else sort of lies there.
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Nuria comments, "I sounded like a 'tea kettle' for a reason. I felt as though I had completely lost him. And I may have - I'm not sure if he loves me anymore. Well, okay, that's not true. He does love me, but I'm not sure that he's sure of that. I feel like I'm just boring him all the time now."
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In retrospect, I think we'd already hurt each other many times, and Wolf had just become increasingly numb, shutting himself away from me to try and protect himself from the hurt.
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February 8th 2004
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This was written on my birthday party of 2004. Wolf ended up making out with Ivy and such. I was very angry, and very jelous. I cried and cried and cried that night. It was my 15th birthday. I didn't explain that very well in this entry:
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"I, need to feel you, you, need to feel me, I, can't control you, so why is it evil? You and me..." from Puddle of Mud's song "Control".
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It finally almost fits, not that I ever wanted it to. The song is the fucking shit though whether it fits or not. I wanted bad as hell to write last night - and now I can. I have never been so jealous, so helpless feeling, so weak, so . . . So disgusting to myself.
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I'm making myself sick, and I'm not even fucking hungry. Yo, eating is like my fucking hobby - my fucking entertainment - and I want . . . I don't know what I want, but you know what I don't want? I don't want to eat, I don't want to stop being freezing cold, I don't want Wolf to be playing that fucking stupid game.
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I want him to hold me like he used to . . . I want him to feel like he did before - he can't even get hard with me anymore! I feel like fucking shit...
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"These feelings will be gone - now I see the times they change, leaving doesn't seem so strange. I am hoping I can find, where I leave my head behind; All the shit I seem to take, All Alone I Seem To Break. I have lived the best I can, does this make me not a man?" from "Alone I Break" by KoRn.
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This song gives me the shivers.
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I can't pretend like I'm not hurt, I don't want to be hurt, I don't want to care anymore, I don't want to love him anymore . . . Because the fact that I can't let go is hurting him, he needs to find people to make him happy; he needs someone who can protect him, who can fuck him the way he likes. He needs somebody that will do everything I never could, and maybe never will.
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I love this music, getting lost in it, listening to "Bodies," by Drowning Pool now. It is my escape.
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Ivy and Wolf are here at my house.
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I don't want to be alone, but at the same time I want to be completely consumed by my music.
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I'm gonna cry now.
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"Walking Wounded" by Tea Party: "Is it safe to look within . . . And to erase all that's been . . . And all that's been between . . . Is it gone, tell me what went wrong? 'Cause baby I'm not that strong. And I'm walking wounded . . . All alone. . . . If your memories do stray . . . Then they'll betray all that's past . . . And all that's been between . . . Is it gone? Tell me what went wrong . . . 'Cause baby I'm not that strong . . . How does it feel?"
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February 9th 2004
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No words for this feeling, and thus I must find them.
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Like I'm lost, left on a curb, and my thoughts escaped me.
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And when I find them, I shall let everyone know.
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I feel like I am anticipating something, but I don't know what. It's like I'm waiting here like I know something will happen. But nothing is going to happen. So what am I waiting for?
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It like my mind is waiting for something, my body is waiting for something
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Speaking of which, I've had a headache all day, and a stomach ache, dizziness, lack of focus, clumsiness... I've been day dreaming. More than anything else, I've a need for liquid.
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February 11th 2004
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Why Do I Keep Wishing?
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So, another day, another set of thoughts.
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Another bunch of choices, another set of stresses, piss-filled brains, and soggy food... Another day.
Another day. Another day.
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One day he'll be here, the next he wont. One day I'll be smart, and the next I wont.
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One day I'll be pretty and glamorous, but today, I'm not.
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Someday he'll be mine again, and all this will be but a memory. One day it will all be in the past. One day this will be something that just happened when I was a young child. One day . . . Someday . . . Another day.
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Another day has gone by. And I find I like this day a little more than the last. I find myself a little more fulfilled than the last.
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I find I'm a little wiser, and bit more mature. But I find I have no more of him back yet, just the silence in the wake of the three cursed words that drew us together. The short silence is followed by "Goodbye," or
"Night," and this is when he closes the door, or when the phone is shut off. This is when I cry myself to sleep and become a lost three year old again. This is when all I can think is how sorry I am.
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This is not now, that was then.
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For now he is not here, nor has he just left, and now I am calm, but unsatisfied.
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I find my self hanging on the edge of insanity, hanging on the edge of a knife, the sinks into my fingertips - gripping, waiting for him to pull me up . . . Or pull me down.
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Do I go up, or do I go down? Which way can I meet him? Or am I already there? Why do I find that no matter how many questions he answers, all I hear the silence in my mind. Loneliness that can only be put aside by his face.
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I want him with me while I'm in school, while I'm at home, while I'm sleeping, while I'm talking, while I'm eating, thinking, breathing, living. I want him with me while I exist. Always, and forever. After death and forever.
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My master, my reason, my need, my desire, my love, my hope, my want, my - my reason to improve.
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I am not crazy, I am not obsessed, I am not on some drug . . . I am in love, and that in it self is craziness, insanity, obsessiveness - a high, some form of drug - something more than the word could ever portray.
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I am in awe. I am in awe of the miracle of his life, his steps, his body, his mind, his spirit, his energy, his talents, his thoughts. I am in awe of the beauty he holds in every aspect of his ways. I am in awe of my audacity to challenge him. Why would I push what is already been pushed as far as it can go?
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How could I hurt something so strong? How can something so perfect be so easily hurt?
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How can my existence interfere with his beauty? How can I let myself wreak him?
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Why do I keep wishing he'd bring me flowers? Why do I keep wishing he could make me cum? Why do I keep wishing he would walk to see me everyday? Why do I wish for so much when I've already got ten times that which I deserve?
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There must be something wrong with me . . . I must have something wrong with my mind . . . How could I let myself hurt him? I am selfish, that I am. I am selfish and should be punished, but no one will punish me with anything but the loss my status. I'm not sure that will do it, I'm not sure it's enough . . . I'm not sure I'll remember.
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I need to set goals for myself. Certain things that I need to do.
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[Editor's note from Nuria of September 2015: I'm in absolute shock at reading this. My heart is aching, my lungs are struggling to find enough air and I find that I am crying. I consciously knew what I was doing, and yet I didn't know at the same time. I began to hate myself and punish myself with toxic guilt. I blamed myself for the infinite pain I found inside Wolf, not realizing it was just a reflection of my own pain, not realizing that I was not the cause of it. Not realizing that we co-created all the strife in our relationship. And yet I decided I had to reprogram myself, change who I was, become something that would make it better somehow. I punished myself repeatedly for things that were already a punishment in themselves.]
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I need to limit the things I do according to what he needs of me, and what I need of him. To start, I must stop begging, I must stop begging things of him. It's diminishing of myself, and nagging at him.
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Simple terms for myself; Rule One, Don't Beg.
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Another thing is my nails, I can't make them dull, I tried, and I can't find anything to put over them that will stay, so I must simply learn not to use them. He hates being scratched about as much as I hate being ignored. I wish he would do something back to me that is just as painful and call it even, instead of withdrawing, it would be so much less time consuming, and so much easier for me to learn from.
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Rule Two, Don't Scratch.
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I feel like I should make some sort of rule about school work, as I just saw my report card, and I dropped a point on my average. 83% to an 82% which isn't so bad, but some of these
grades just are not acceptable. But there is no rule I can make for myself that I can follow, because there is no rule that I can make that would please Wolf.
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However, maybe a rule about confidence in myself? He wants me to believe in myself, but how can I do that when I fuck shit up repeatedly. I feel like . . . Like I've already lost. I keep hoping, but I feel like I have lost all the battles so far though I have not lost the war . . .
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It's like I'm stuck in the rain, and even though I knew it was going to rain I just didn't bring a coat or anything because I didn't feel like it.
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It's all my fault . . . So how can I believe in myself . . . How can he believe in me? [Reality Check] Hello! Earth to Nuria, read what you just typed and thought! How can he believe in me if I don't even believe in myself? How can he go out with me if I don't even think he should!? How can he trust me, if I can't even trust myself!?
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Rule three ought to be; don't be a fucking idiot.
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But as he said, for every don't, there ought to be a do.
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What should I do? I should trust myself. I need to believe that even though I have fucked up, I will get better, I will improve. I need to believe that.
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Rule Three, Trust and Believe in Myself.
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The next rule will be simple, as much as I may hate what he's doing, as much as I may want something different or more, I have to not cut him off from something that makes him happy.
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Rule Four, Don't take happiness from him for ANY reason.
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So let's go over what I've got so far.
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1. Don't Beg
2. Don't Scratch
3.Trust/Believe in myself
4. Don't take his happiness for any reason
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And I should memorize these, and when ever I violate the rules I should be reprimanded. But how? Hmmm . . . I don't know about that one yet, but I've thought of the next rule. I should meditate for him to have good dreams daily. In fact, I should meditate daily regardless. And I can use that as something to think back on when ever I feel belittled - I can use my energy, my power, I can understand it, see it, focus it, and use it. I can use that for my confidence to be built on. I need to meditate daily . . . But when? Maybe I can set my alarm for early morning, 6am, and meditate then, and if I fall back asleep, oh well, I'll be waken up later anyway. That would be difficult, but it may make my days go more smoothly. I really like that idea in fact, anyway, how often am I busy at 6:00am?
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Rule Five, Meditate every early morning.
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Sub rules, meditate for Wolf's dreams, protection and love. Meditate for my purification and concentration. Meditate for my parents.
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I think those are all the rules I shall write for now. That's enough to keep in mind for a while, I'll add more as time goes on and I think of more. Let's see if I can remember them without looking them back
up, shall we...
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1. Don't Beg [Reason: it belittles me, and nags him.]
2. Don't Scratch [Reason: He hates it, and it's a bag habit.]
3. Believe and Trust in myself. [Reason: How can he trust me, or believe in me, if I don't?]
4. Don't ever take his happiness for ANY reason. [Reason: Because anything I want is second to his happiness. I exist to see him happy.]
5. Meditate every morning. [Reason: He needs as much light as I can give him, and I need something to get up for in the morning. Besides, I'm his guardian, that's what I am supposed to do.]
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I am still his guardian, right? My lips tremble at the thought that I might not be.
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Oh yes, and one more rule . . . Don't be fucking childish.
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6. Don't Be Childish [Reason: I hate being childish, he hates me being childish . . .]
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If only I knew what it meant to not be childish . . . Maybe if I follow my other rules, it will just come to me to not be childish.