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The Stories...
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Love Stinks. Sometimes we get dumped.
: submit your own
I'll have that sex to go...
by tim
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To say that Kim was emotionally needy would be to say that Tom Cruise is a bad actor; it just doesn’t tell the whole story. We need to know why. Of course, when we first met, I was unaware of her personal need for constant male attention. But then, I was unaware of most things pertaining to the human female at that time.
For the record, Kim took my cherry. I was happy to part with it, and spent the following nine months in her company, taking on the role of male du mois, and having as much sex as possible, which pretty much turned out to be as much as she would let me have. The bubble popped at about month # 3, I would say. Months 4-9 were spent balancing the non-stop desire and availability of sex with the toleration of the neediness and the crying and the whining. She had revealed her love for me at week 3.
I remember her father was a State Marshall. I don’t think he liked me, but maybe was glad that his unstable daughter was with someone. I am fairly sure that he did not know of my intensions; but then, I didn’t really even know of my intentions until month # 10, after the fact. He had a waterbed at his house. We had sex in her father’s waterbed once. It was ok. Waterbeds are a lot of trouble for all the fantasy they project. Of course even sex on a cement floor is ok. It’s like: I know my scraped-up knees will bleed for 2 weeks, but I’m not going to die from it, so…
Things proceed as college relationships do. One time in the bathroom in her Sorority house, a friend of her’s was just entering the bathroom as I was exiting. Of course I was completely naked. That was a humbling moment.
At the end of the school year, I had gotten a summer job at a Texas University to study pyramidal inversion in computer-generated [read: imaginary] molecules. I was leaving Michigan to go to Texas. Freedom. At last I had a really good excuse to make a clean break. We had a bad break-up weekend right before I left, where my line was that I was leaving and things are not going well anyway, so let’s end this. Her line was that she was desperately in love with me and she didn’t understand all of this break-up talk. I’m paraphrasing. And at this point the break-up talk has become a series of crying fits, and I did feel bad for her, I really did. I’m no monster. Of course here I am relaying this to the World, but in my head I was doing the right thing. And that’s all I can really control is what’s in my head.
On the drive to Texas I had two good days to think about this break-up talk. And while she was upset and very sad at the new development our relationship had just taken, I didn’t get the impression that she really understood the finality of it. Forever in other words. And so when I got to the dormitory at the University, I felt compelled to call her immediately and reconfirm the outcome of the conversation. On the phone I said, “I just wanted to make sure that you understood that we’re not just taking a break, but that this is it. We’re not getting back together next year at school.” Her reply was very calm, eerily calm, basically saying that yes, she understood, and that this was fine, and ok, have a nice summer. My conscience clear, I was free to enjoy the summer and not have this Thing looming over me. I felt clean.
I proceeded to fall for a girl from South Carolina who was in the same program, and who had a boyfriend back home – but that’s for another day.
Returning home to Michigan and to school I found that indeed Kim had not realized the full impact of this breakup and in one conversation said, “I don’t know what happened. We were so happy.” It was like she wasn’t there for the last three months of the relationship. But really I think she was there, mentally speaking, and just got very good at denial.
I heard rumor later that she slept with a friend of mine that summer. Which didn’t bother me, because he was more annoying than not,
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