Monday, January 02, 2006

Manton vs. Woman: The hard one - Number 4

Some firsts will always stick out in your head. First movie in theaters (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turles), first kiss (Rachel LoCurto during a game of spin the bottle at Michelle's house on Halloween), first time you figured out masterbation (thank you Chloe Jones) and of course, first relationship.

After a few awkward starts, it was strange to try and jump right into having a girlfriend. Naturally, it took me the summer to self-loathe to be ready for something as momentous as trying to get ass. The summer going into high school was a strange one, mostly because I stopped gaining weight and started having difficulty bitching about it. Also, young love was to start between my friend Stephen and a girl named Sasha, who I knew through the band. We would talk during classes, but nothing concrete.

This was also the summer where I was to officially join the marching band, obviously looking to be the coolest kid in school. While I dreaded band camp (OMG ONE TIME AT BAND CAMP LOL shut up) I also watched the Sasha/Stephen saga start to bloom, and then burn up in a firey wreck - the kind that people in the south enjoy. Apparently, during one of the movies on Colony field (I spoke about it when barely seeing Carly's bra-ed breasts...there is a giant screen put on the baseball field and kids sit around on the hill and watch a movie - exciting) Stephen was going to be asked out. And then some drama happened and Sasha ended up crying. I noticed, while watching her cry, that she was getting kind of hot. It was at that point that I started to swoop.

Freshman year, I talked to her constantly. During the long days of marching band, I'd be over with my bass drum talking to the color guard, of which Sasha was a member. On the bus rides to the football games all the seats were conveniently taken up so she had to sit next to me. Distinctly I remember her wearing these awful 1982 knit shorts and stockings, thinking it was the hottest thing ever, while I told her what a creep Steve was for not going out with her. I smothered her with so many compliments I'm shocked she didn't suffocate.

I chipped away for months afterward, deciding that I wasn't going to simply throw myself into another relationship. Sasha said she didn't want to go out with anyone, let alone me, for some time, so I would become her friend first. Then, after I lured her into a false sense of friendship security, would pounce...and ask her out. Maybe "pounce" isn't truly indative of the action. Regardless, by the winter parade, I would make my move. After talking to all of her friends not only for acceptance but for inside information, I was ready to ask her out. She responded saying she needed time.

Sasha needed a month to think about it. I walked back to my drum confused, but pleased that it wasn't a no...or a long line of reasons that I'm unattractive - a partial victory. A few days later I got an e-mail from her stating that she could not go out with me. Now, I was pre-emptively dumped 10 days later through the internet. That sort of killed the relationship possibilities, but gave birth to a whole new form of communication with Sasha; scathing criticism. I was a supreme asshole to her, making her cry a lot, but she kept coming back, almost like one of those inflatable punching bags that just keep coming back for more. She was getting emotionally jabbed, and kept popping back up for more punishment.

Towards the end of Freshman year, a strange thing happened. We started going out. But here's the tricky thing with our relationship...we never really WENT OUT. In the 11 months or so that we were seeing each other, at no point did we go see a movie, or eat out somewhere. All we did was go to each other's houses (usually hers) and screw around. We talked on the phone a mere 4 times, and that was only because of problems. To say we were in a relationship was sort of incorrect. We would make out, and then part ways, and possibly talk on the internet. Were permenantly playing dress up; I was the boyfriend and she was the boyfriend.

It gets healthier. As time went on, I realized that I didn't really like Sasha, and she wasn't a fit for me. She was loud, in your face, and immature. To sum it up, she was stil very much a kid in a teenager's body. This is that transition time where everyone thinks they are older and wiser than they really are, and here is a girl who doesn't even want to think about it. Hell, she would cry sometimes when you brought up college and growing up. Sasha had a point to do cheers and dances that frankly left me feeling embarassed, as I was obviously older and wiser than her, and pretty much everyone else (please get the joke people). But I stayed on with her, not out of some sense of loyalty, or that we connected on some deeper level, but because she was hot, she was the best I could get, and we were having fun in her bed.

This carried on for quite some time, into the next summer when she went on vacation. While in her native Croatia, Sasha cheated on me. Here was ample oppurtunity for me to end things, make her look like the bad guy, and move on. It was absolutely perfect. What did I do? I took one morning during band camp to think about it, and answered her with a Weezer song, No Other One off of Pinkerton. "My girl's a liar, but I'll stand beside her. She's all I got, and I don't want to be alone." She heard these lyrics, and with tears in her eyes, said, "I'm not a liar!" I basically told her that I'm sticking with her out of convenience and she said okie doke, relieved that I didn't leave her on her mistake.

I strung her along, about three months after this event and about six months after starting with her. Eventually the bubble burst one night when she was on top of me, barely covered by panties. Like usual, I was fully clothed because I assumed if I took of my shirt and my gut made an appearence, there would be an abrupt end to her being in nothing by panties. She started to shake as she buried her face in my chest. All the while I thought I was a mack, making this girl shake all over. Sasha pulled up from my chest, her face in the strangest contortion of emotions. Without looking, I felt the two puddles that soaked through my shirt on to my skin, and realized I was an asshole.

She started to say how she loved me, that even though I didn't think it was possible to love at that age, she did love me. My focus turned to the two candles by her bed with my name etched in the wax. It's easy now to know that it was infatuation, and not love, that drove her. In the meantime, I held her and tried to calm her down as she went into hysterics, trying to explain to me all of her feelings. On the inside, I fell apart knowing that I could claim nothing was recripricated. Soon after I heard the honk of my dad's Explorer, and I left her still in shambles.

What do you do when you're so far over your head you can't right the situation? What happens when you've done such wrong that nothing will make up for it? I panicked, and simply stopped talking to her. I didn't know how to tell her I didn't love her, that in fact I almost didn't like her, and was using her and her emotions because I was weak. How could I let someone know that they were in my life at that point because I was a selfish asshole who wanted to get himself off? Instead, I assumed that saying nothing to her would be better than the truth.

Well, that was wrong, too. There was no easy way around it, no correct way to cut the ties. Eventually, Sasha came up to me in the band room and thought we should break up. Word spread that Sasha had dumped me, and people asked if I was ok with the whole thing. She might have said it, but I broke her heart long before that conversation. I told them that I was over her, and they took it like I was just trying to be proud. If only that were would have been easier to get along for the months afterwards.

Eventually, we hooked up again senior year, in the band bus. It was a short stint of action, mostly brought about by the fact that I knew she still wanted me, and I wanted to prove it. Once again, not the best way to set this course of action, but that was pretty much the end of Sasha and I. I learned a few things about relationships from Sasha. If you get into an emotional link with someone, give it due gravity, because there is a lot behind it. Also, bailing out early is a lot better than bailing out late. Finally, know that there is another person that you're dealing with, another person fully equipped with feelings and emotions, and that's far more important in the long run then making out.

Next, I try and tweak the "friend then boyfriend" technique and end up subservient like a battered wife to a Christian gal. And don't worry, it gets even more complicated.

1 comment:

the ardist said...

Oh Anton. How fiendishly typical you are. Getting into something blindly and ineptly, then fucking your way out (literally and figuratively). Next time you'll have it happen to you, too, because the moment shouts louder than experience ever can. It's always that way.

The difficult path of action is less often the wrong one. Unfortunately, inaction's gravity is like that of the sun, and action's is like that of your anus.