...Thoughts can be deceiving...
I spent freshman and a large part of sophomore year infatuated with Pro. All my friends knew and all of them advised me against it but still I continued to fall in deep with him. Finally, I had to start a recovery so, I deleted Pro. For real this time; all social medias AND even his phone number. It was a glorious two months, then at 1AM I got a text from a number I didn't know but recognized all to easily.
"DTF?" My heart sank and my breath lost, it was him.
We went back and forth for about forty minutes of me trying my hardest to stay strong, I told him I wouldn't have sex with him and I just wanted to talk all this shit out. He agreed. I grabbed my keys.
I wore clothes I knew were far from sexy. Deep down I think I did want to sleep with him but closer to the surface I hoped he'd actually have the balls to talk to me and tell me why he was the way he was. Fuck, I was so wrong. In typical Pro fashion he informed me that the door was open and to let myself in because he was already waiting for me two floors up in bed. I drove over, body shaking. Part from nerves part from anger and part from excitement. I was seeing him again. The guy who made me feel so comfortable and so self conscious all at once. He was my own personal form of oxy. I made a motion to write how long I had been sober on my hand, just as a reminder.
I'm not going to go into our whole two hour fight. Not going to get into how he finally admitted he had a girlfriend of three years, or how it made me want to vomit. Or how he'd slept with a lot of girls at our school but I was the only one he kept going back to(Why? Well I asked and he 'didn't know') or how he wanted me,but not want to be with me. That's all tedious and faint eye watering memories. Instead I'm skipping to the actual moment that made me feel like I was in a stupid teen romance movie.
"Can I have a hug please"
"Why the fuck would I hug you?!"
"I don't know!”
"See this is what I'm talking about, Pro!"
"Ok, because it helps. I promise you it'll make you feel better. Come on, hug me"
I refused.
"Ok I'm gonna leave my hands here and I hope you just reach out and hug me"
"Why would I do that?!"
"Just do it! Look I'm counting to five and you better hug me by five. One...two...three...four..."
I wrapped my arms around him.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Oh, but it was so nice!
He hugged me, at first cautious but then tight and I felt better, damnit he was right! We both let go and sarcastically I said "yep uhhuh totally better" he laughed and then once again, in typical Pro fashion he attempted to jump on top of me and pin me down. I didn't let it happen, part because I knew it was wrong and part because I almost fell off his bed. How unsexy! Like here we go I’m about to take advantage of you but oh shit almost tossed you from my bed whops! So instead I yelped “What the fuck was that?! Are you trying to throw me off your bed?!" He tried making into sexual banter but I shut it down by comparing his attempt to a serial killers.
Things got awkward. His hard on was getting aggravating for both of us and finally he let his anger show and told me to fuck him or get out. I got up to leave and he followed me out telling me he was giving 'fifteen second to come back upstairs and get in bed or leave'...I was already leaving? I never said he was the brightest. I told him I just wanted to talk and he didn't want to do any of that. We fought about what we both wanted in that moment right up until I slammed his front door and got in my car. I sobbed the whole way home.
Part of me hoped that he had followed me back to campus or that when I got to my door he was waiting, he wasn't. I shouldn't have expected that at all. It was him. He wouldn't ever do that to me I didn't matter like that. I didn't sleep that night and I knew he was probably sleeping like a damn baby. I didn’t sleep at all. Instead I stayed up fucked around on social media and texted my best friend some weird cryptic shit. As I lay awake still hyped on adrenaline or some shit I somehow thought texting him would be good smart ass idea. He couldn’t even tell me my damn major, so I decided to tell him? Why the fuck did I think it was a good idea? He doesn’t care! He’s gonna wake up read that and laugh at me. Fuck. I’ve fallen back to the trap that is him. I had gone Pro.
