Am I feeling that dreaded L-word? The one that could quite possibly break all the rules I have ever set for myself? It seems like I’ve already broken most if not all of my rules except for one—don’t fall in love.
The others broke easily when she first came home with me.
Don’t let a girl become a roommate. That one was inevitable after I figured out she had no place to go.
Another rule was don’t let a girl’s drama affect my career. Fuck, that happened as soon as Mark touched her. Little fucker still deserves a much worse beating than he got.
How about the rule don’t let a girl mess with your head? That one fucks with me a lot lately because as much as I can tell, she is giving herself to me, but she hasn’t done it fully.
That’s where the fucking L-word is bothering me. Because if we are in that kind of relationship, shouldn’t we be totally honest with each other? Shouldn’t we share everything about ourselves?
I have, for sure. I’ve brought her into my home and have given her everything I can to help her. I’ve given her all of my attention, and likely my heart.
So, what do I get in return? Almost one-hundred percent of her. Probably like ninety-eight percent of her.
But there is still that damn two percent, two percent that she doesn’t share. That she won’t talk to me about. I know it’s got something to do with that night I took her into my life, but I can’t get her to tell me what it is.
That shower that night was probably some type of healing thing for her, washing away her hurt and anger. But from what? Was it sexual? I don’t think so. Not only because of the whole still a virgin thing, but also because she doesn’t seem to be like that.
Not that I would really know what a sexually abused person is like…
No, it’s not that, not directly at least. It’s got something to do with family though, if I had to bet. Whenever I steer the conversation towards family, I get shut down quickly and for the rest of the day she walks around looking sad.
Fuck, I hate feeling vulnerable like this. I’m getting involved with someone who could rip my insides out with a single word.
Shit, I can’t lie. I’m a thirty-year-old man whose last major relationship was when Suzie Beamon said yes to marrying me during fourth grade lunch. The marriage lasted exactly one day—she was cheating on me with a fifth grader.
So yeah, me and relationships? This fucking sucks so good.
I want this girl with all my being, but she seriously needs to fucking spill the beans about her past. We need to move the fuck on and get on with our lives. Holding back secrets is not the way to do that.
I want this to go further. I see the guys in the gym who have wives and kids. I want that eventually, and I think she does too.
Fuck! I can’t believe I admitted that to myself. But I want a wife and kids somewhere down the road.
Christy
I don’t like lying to Alex. Really, I don’t. After everything that he’s done for me I feel like at the very least I owe him the truth. But how do I tell him why I left home? Especially now?
I never counted on becoming intimately involved with him. I never counted on developing feelings for him. And now that I’m falling for him, I’m afraid of the damage the truth could do.
I know I should have figured out a way to handle this shit by now, but I thought just disappearing was the easier way out. I figured eventually Travis would move on, maybe find a girl. But after running into him at Burger Bells, I know he’ll never stop looking for me.
I have this feeling deep in my gut that it’s only a matter of time before he finds where I’ve been hiding out… and then what will I do? Run away from everything?
If only I could turn off this fear. If only I could master all these terrible feelings.
Travis is like one great big open wound. The longer I ignore him, the more it festers and smells.
There’s something about him that makes me feel weak and afraid. I suppose that’s why I’ve taken up fighting. I’ve tried to become stronger to protect myself. And physically I’ve succeeded, but mentally I’m still unable to defeat him.
Whenever I’m in his presence, I panic, feeling like a scared little girl. There’s just so much shit he’s done to me mentally. Two long years of bad experiences weighing me down.
Will Alex think less of me if he knows the truth? I think that’s my biggest worry. To the rest of the world I put on this great big show of being strong, of proving myself capable. In the cage I’ll go toe to toe with guys twice my size, but nobody knows I can’t even take my creepy stepbrother down.