Read Online Nowhere but Up by Pattie Mallette, with A. J. Gregory - Free Book Online
Authors: Pattie Mallette, with A. J. Gregory
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the inevitable over with.
When it was over, I reconnected my body with my mind. I plugged my emotions back in. Though I didn’t know it at the time, delusion set in. I repainted the scenario in new colors. In reality, I’d just lost my virginity in what was by definition a date rape. But in my new, improved version, I had just made love with the man I was going to marry.
I had myself so convinced of this that I walked home on cloud nine. Floating on air. Head over heels in love. I was sure Joey was “the one.” I was so excited that I’d finally found the man who was going to make my dreams come true, the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
The most traumatic thing about that night for me wasn’t even that I’d been raped; it was what happened the next day when I called Joey to say hello and to see how our “relationship” was going (remember, I was only fifteen). My dream guy was curt. Nothing like the night before. Joey immediately cut off my babbling and quietly said, “Please don’t call me again.”
Click.
The dial tone buzzed in my ear.
I was beyond devastated. I cried my heart out that day and for weeks afterward. I decided I hated Joey and I hated men. The rejection hurt me on such a deep level. It was another notch in the belt of abandonment that was squeezing the life out of me. It broke my confidence. It shattered my hope. It scarred my view of love.
Not long after the incident with Joey, I met a guy named Jeremy at a party. I walked into a room where a song by 2 Live Crew was blaring on the stereo. As I sipped beer and dangled a cigarette from my fingers, my eyes landed on a guy doing the “running man.” I thought he looked ridiculous doing the dance; I’m sure he thought he looked pretty cool. I took my beer and cigarette to the other room and didn’t see him again until a few weeks later.
We crossed paths off and on for a while, usually at parties clouded by lots of alcohol and a ton of pot. One time we climbed onto the roof of someone’s house and talked about nothing and everything for hours. I thought he was a good-looking guy—he had a chiseled body, dreamy eyes, and a handsome face—but I still wasn’t totally into him in the beginning. The more I got to know him, however, the deeper I fell. Before I knew it, Jeremy had become my life.
It was almost impossible for me not to fall madly in love with him. And it was equally impossible for anyone not to like him. He was a cool guy, adventurous and spontaneous. He’d pick me up and take me on long walks by the railroad tracks. We’d hitchhike to the city of London, an hour away, to get away from Stratford. I always felt safe with Jeremy, no matter where I was. He had a natural instinct to protect, though many times he took that impulse too far.
On the flip side, Jeremy and I were young and immature and didn’t have much working in our favor. We both came from broken homes and didn’t know how to love ourselves. As much as we tried, we would never be able to figure out how to love each other. We were doomed from the start.
Only a week after we started dating, Jeremy went away for his birthday. Somehow I found out that he had cheated on me while he was gone. I was livid, but he justified his actions by saying he didn’t think we were in a committed relationship. It was an easy out. Then he offered a string of seemingly heartfelt apologies (a pattern I would soon grow accustomed to) and reassured me that he liked me a lot and wanted to be my boyfriend. I forgave him, just as I would many more times.
The cheating that happened during our on-again, off-again relationship wasn’t all one-sided, though. I played my own part. I even betrayed Jeremy with one of his best friends. I was hurt and confused by our toxic relationship and felt compelled to get back at him.
Just as I had my own issues, Jeremy had his. I believe a lot of his demeaning and disrespectful attitude had deep roots in his own life. His dad was an
When it was over, I reconnected my body with my mind. I plugged my emotions back in. Though I didn’t know it at the time, delusion set in. I repainted the scenario in new colors. In reality, I’d just lost my virginity in what was by definition a date rape. But in my new, improved version, I had just made love with the man I was going to marry.
I had myself so convinced of this that I walked home on cloud nine. Floating on air. Head over heels in love. I was sure Joey was “the one.” I was so excited that I’d finally found the man who was going to make my dreams come true, the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
The most traumatic thing about that night for me wasn’t even that I’d been raped; it was what happened the next day when I called Joey to say hello and to see how our “relationship” was going (remember, I was only fifteen). My dream guy was curt. Nothing like the night before. Joey immediately cut off my babbling and quietly said, “Please don’t call me again.”
Click.
The dial tone buzzed in my ear.
I was beyond devastated. I cried my heart out that day and for weeks afterward. I decided I hated Joey and I hated men. The rejection hurt me on such a deep level. It was another notch in the belt of abandonment that was squeezing the life out of me. It broke my confidence. It shattered my hope. It scarred my view of love.
Not long after the incident with Joey, I met a guy named Jeremy at a party. I walked into a room where a song by 2 Live Crew was blaring on the stereo. As I sipped beer and dangled a cigarette from my fingers, my eyes landed on a guy doing the “running man.” I thought he looked ridiculous doing the dance; I’m sure he thought he looked pretty cool. I took my beer and cigarette to the other room and didn’t see him again until a few weeks later.
We crossed paths off and on for a while, usually at parties clouded by lots of alcohol and a ton of pot. One time we climbed onto the roof of someone’s house and talked about nothing and everything for hours. I thought he was a good-looking guy—he had a chiseled body, dreamy eyes, and a handsome face—but I still wasn’t totally into him in the beginning. The more I got to know him, however, the deeper I fell. Before I knew it, Jeremy had become my life.
It was almost impossible for me not to fall madly in love with him. And it was equally impossible for anyone not to like him. He was a cool guy, adventurous and spontaneous. He’d pick me up and take me on long walks by the railroad tracks. We’d hitchhike to the city of London, an hour away, to get away from Stratford. I always felt safe with Jeremy, no matter where I was. He had a natural instinct to protect, though many times he took that impulse too far.
On the flip side, Jeremy and I were young and immature and didn’t have much working in our favor. We both came from broken homes and didn’t know how to love ourselves. As much as we tried, we would never be able to figure out how to love each other. We were doomed from the start.
Only a week after we started dating, Jeremy went away for his birthday. Somehow I found out that he had cheated on me while he was gone. I was livid, but he justified his actions by saying he didn’t think we were in a committed relationship. It was an easy out. Then he offered a string of seemingly heartfelt apologies (a pattern I would soon grow accustomed to) and reassured me that he liked me a lot and wanted to be my boyfriend. I forgave him, just as I would many more times.
The cheating that happened during our on-again, off-again relationship wasn’t all one-sided, though. I played my own part. I even betrayed Jeremy with one of his best friends. I was hurt and confused by our toxic relationship and felt compelled to get back at him.
Just as I had my own issues, Jeremy had his. I believe a lot of his demeaning and disrespectful attitude had deep roots in his own life. His dad was an
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