Hi, I'm new to this site, but I have strong aspirations of becoming a writer. I have never studied English language or English literature beyond the compulsory level. Although I do read a lot. I figure now at my age, if i make all the mistakes now, I may over time, become much better. I'm 20 years old.
I just wrote this earlier this morning. Tear it apart if you wish. Any feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks
I just wrote this earlier this morning. Tear it apart if you wish. Any feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks
I wake up randomly in the middle of the night, awoken by a recurring dream that has some substance in reality. I know what it’s about, I’ve thought about it extensively, but it still won’t go away. A sexual encounter with a girl I now know to be a bi-polar psycho with a dangerous boyfriend. He’s after me apparently. I’m now public enemy number 1. We hung about in the same circle of friends, although I would not go as far to say he constitutes a friend. He was a mere acquaintance. Come to think of it, they were all acquaintances. For a few months you could say I was under the illusion that one or two of them amounted to more than that. Where are they now? No where to be seen. Not one of them has even phoned me to see how I am, or ask what the craic is. Nothing. One did phone me to tell me the news that everybody ‘knows’. Thanks for the heads up I say.
I’m not feeling self-pity, far from it. It is my naivety and stupidity for thinking they were close friends. The sudden way in which I have been ostracised has caused a sudden realisation in me for what it really was. A short episode in which I was drawn to them by their partying attitude; the long weekend drug binges, the weekday drug binges which was facilitated through the inactivity of the summer holidays. What I justified as their liberal, care-free attitudes masks the reality of what they are. Delinquents. Delinquents with little or no future, and in my time with them I’ve done as much damage to my future in the space of six months than I could have ever imagined. It is my stupidity on all levels.
In no way can I blame anybody else. I am responsible for my actions, both about the girl in question and with my association with this group of people. I was stupid to even go near that girl, although in fairness my actions are mitigated by the fact that I was lied to. Oh she is no longer with him, she says. They have broken up. In the earlier part of that unfortunate night, her mildly flirtatious manner struck me as her casual friendliness. As the night wore on, this became more intense. Sitting on the couch with a few others to my absolute surprise I felt her groping me clandestinely under her jacket which she had placed over her own legs. What the ****? In my drunken and drug-fuelled state I felt quite aroused. She always had a notorious sexual reputation but now I was feeling it at first hand. She knew what she was doing, and there was no doubt that she was good at it.
People fell asleep and she pounced. Me, like a stupid ****, reacted. I asked her was it even right to be doing this, she told me to shut up. Even though I never really considered her so-called ex-boyfriend a ‘friend’ of mine, I still felt a minor sense of betrayal which wasn’t fully realised until the next morning when I woke up, sober. This is when anxiety usually unleashes its’ full force on me over trivial events which wouldn’t cause other people a second thought. Some people say I over-analyze, perhaps I do. I reasoned when my mind was clear that this was a stupid mistake best kept quiet and left behind; that everybody makes mistakes, and so on.
The next day I find out that they are a couple again. I let out a silent groan, and the anxiety strikes me in the chest like the thrust of a knife. Still I try to forget it. A couple of weeks later when I was at a party with some ‘friends’, a girl remarked to me in a matter-of-factly kind of way that I was used to get back at her boyfriend. This worried me on two levels: It means first that a lot more people than I anticipated know about it. She has obviously been talking to different people. Quite openly in fact I was to find out. As yet, she hasn’t told her boyfriend. He must be the only one.
Second, I was used? That fucking bitch. In a funny kind of way I felt violated, the way a man might feel violated when he has lost his dignity during a prostate exam in the doctor’s office. I was more disappointed in myself though. How the **** did I not see this? I consider myself maybe someone of average enough intelligence not to have fallen foul of a despicable and obvious display of sexuality with sinister intentions.
It’s okay though, I can still put it behind me. Some time later when I have largely forgotten about it I get a phone call. It’s from my friend. I thought he was just phoning me to see what my plans were for the weekend. He has other news. The boy knows. She has told his sister, and invariably his sister has told the rest of his family. Panic hits me. There is more. The girl is pregnant, I am told. About three months. I felt on the verge of a panic attack. I get off the phone, my mind racing. I think back to that night. Did I wear protection? No, ****. I try and work out when I was with this girl. It is quite plausible that I am the father, but I don’t tell anyone. I deny it to myself. I can’t be a father, that’s ridiculous and absurd.
I go to my mother’s bedroom and steal some valium to calm the anxiety. It does help, although when I think of the whole episode instinctively a wave of worry comes over me. I am paranoid, significantly so. I’m lying in my bedroom trying not to let it get to me, but I keep getting premonitions of two or more men bursting into my room to give me a severe beating. I cannot escape the thought. It’s an overwhelming fear. The weird thing is I don’t have much to fear from the person who has the most legitimate reason to be after me. I have been in fights before; I know how to fight, in a way. I could quite feasibly handle myself against this person.
But in any fights that I have been involved in, in the past I have felt a strong sense of anger, anger in the moment and a feeling of being aggrieved which gives me the capacity and motivation to fight. This is not the case now. I have wronged someone, I am at fault. I have no anger towards him. He must feel completely different, the anger bubbling away inside him. I’m told that the two of them are in a stronger relationship than ever, the bond unbreakable. He must be convinced that he is the father, which he probably is if truth be told, and that has strengthened his commitment towards her.
She must have dumped the whole thing on me. It was me who came onto her. She resisted my advances for a time. The important thing to know is that it was me who was the instigator. In her drunken state she capitulated. She is very sorry, but there were misdemeanours from both of them, they know that now. Their relationship is a flawed one but a strong one. The ironic thing is that the full extent of their misdemeanours would be unknown to both of them, each as numerous as the other.
I can picture the two of them deep in arbitration, both agreeing that these latest mishaps could be cancelled out. Their love and what they have is too strong to let slip away. In the back of each of their minds they both are playing a childish game of relationship espionage, on the surface they reason, and consider the fate of the baby. What they are doing is the right thing. I wonder do they consider the jealousy which will characterise their relationship in the following years, should it last that long. What a load of fucking bullshit.
The whole thing is a farce. The two of them can continue to play their happy-couple game, whereas I have been ostracised, left with my own irrational speculation, my own paranoia and my own anxiety. I am the scapegoat, the way in politics the tabloid newspapers demonise a certain individual to serve a particular political interest. I am left with my personal demons, and with the added pressure of the moral majority on my back, I wonder where I go from here, and whether it will ever end.
