I, I'm driving black on black
Just got my license back
I got this feeling in my veins this train is coming off the track
I'll ask polite if the devil needs a ride
Because the angel on my right ain't hanging out with me tonight
I'm driving past your house while you were sneaking out
I got the car door opened up so you can jump in on the run
Your mom don't know that you were missing
She'd be pissed if she could see the parts of you that I've been kissing
Screamin'
[CHORUS]
No, we're never gonna quit
Ain't nothing wrong with it
Just acting like we're animals
No, no matter where we go
'Cause everybody knows
We're just a couple of animals
So come on baby, get in
Get in, just get in
Check out the trouble we're in
You're beside me on the seat
Got your hand between my knees
And you control how fast we go by just how hard you wanna squeeze
It's hard to steer when you're breathing in my ear
But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears
By now, no doubt that we were heading south
I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth
'Cause this was it, like flicking on a switch
It felt so good I almost drove into the ditch
I'm screamin'
[CHORUS]
So come on baby, get in
Get in, just get in
Check out the trouble we're in
We were parked out by the tracks
We're sitting in the back
And we just started getting busy
When she whispered "what was that?"
The wind, I think 'cause no one else knows where we are
And that was when she started screamin'
"That's my dad outside the car!"
Oh please, the keys, they're not in the ignition
Must have wound up on the floor while
we were switching our positions
I guess they knew that she was missing
As I tried to tell her dad it was her mouth that I was kissing
Screamin'
[CHORUS]
So come on baby, get in
We're just a couple of animals
Get in, just get in
Ain't nothing wrong with it
Check out the trouble we're in
Get in, just get in
It's been stuck in my head for awhile, kind of the way I feel when I think about being a crazy teenager.
Love,
Caitlyn
Monday, April 26, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
"Him" part 2
*SEXUALLY EXPLICIT*
So between November 2009 and August 2008, Jimmy and I weren't talking much at all. I do remember that in October 2008 we started a comment chat on one of my videos from that summer, but it only lasted maybe a week. My first day of eighth grade I didn't expect to see him, but he was walking around campus, though I was looking for my lost, sixth grade cousin and couldn't exactly focus.
Freshman year for high school began August 2009, and I knew that I'd be seeing him again, but I was prepared for feeling...anxious about the situation. Since I can remember, I never really felt comfortable around him; I would always feel my heart pounding with adrenaline, the "Fight or Flight" response, and usually my mind reacted with "flee." I couldn't help the fact that our lockers were (and still are) close together, almost too close for comfort, so I didn't do anything about it. I was just grateful to have a locker near all of my classes.
Our only contact was through YouTube, and on my website panel I had put my Twitter address, which was public, but I didn't think he'd actually be reading it. During an outdoor pep rally I had tweeted, because he was sitting maybe three or four rows back, that it freaked me out with him so close to me. When the bell rang I went through my normal routine of locker then car, and we passed by each other; he waved, and it caught me very off-guard. Later he posted a comment on my YouTube page referencing the tweet, equally catching me off-guard. This was in September, I guess.
My best friend Chelsi, during the first semester, and I were going through a phase where we would disagree about something, usually to do with one of our mutual friends, and then we wouldn't talk for a week or two before realizing we were both stupid and made up, though the make-up never lasted long. In mid-October, Jimmy and I had started communicating through YouTube again, and after a particularly nasty episode with Chelsi and me about Halloween plans, I asked him for help on how to deal with it and whatnot. After a few hours, it turned into us being actual friends, with exchanged numbers and everything; if I recall correctly, he was the one initiating the cell phone contact.
Within that first week back at school, we were talking via text most of the time at home and walking with each other through the hallways. He would even meet me by my locker at the end of the day and walk me to where my carpool waited in the back. He'd make me laugh and just essentially make my day.
Our text conversations were deeply personal, for both of us I still believe, and then I came up with this insane thought process that I really wanted to kiss him. Badly. I fed this story to Graham that I was going to scare Chelsi, and I first told Jimmy it was going to be kind of a friends-with-benefits situation that later changed to the same story I told my fiance; I think he may have known my true intentions, (because he's always been so good at getting me...) but he didn't show it if he did. So Graham rejected the idea, and Jimmy was for it, so at that point I manipulated the offer further and asked if he liked the kissing after I got to scare Chelsi (it had turned out to be a motive, in part), then could we continue doing so. He agreed.
So that Monday at school, right after first period, Jimmy and I came together by the Geometry room in the 300 building; I noticed Chelsi before the kiss, but during... I couldn't think. I had forgotten my surroundings and could only focus on that kiss. Calling it "kissing" is saying it nicely; bluntly, we were making out against the wall and disgusting, apparently, some of the students passing by. After the kiss, walking to my second period, the monster woke up inside of me and immediately wanted more. Later that day, we talked some about it, and though he did want more (I'm only going by what he said), he was worried I'd feel bad about betraying Graham. I said that I was over the guilty phase and could move on. We didn't do anything else for the rest of the week, but we still were together after school.
The weekend came and we talked even more about what had happened and what we were going to do about it, and the subject popped up once about one day possibly going even further than locked lips, and even though it was somewhat dismissed then, I didn't stop thinking about it. That next week at school, the affair continued, mostly daily. I'd go to my locker, he'd meet me, and we'd make out before I had to leave; as much as it kills me to say this, I loved it. I loved that I had the best of both worlds, I loved that I didn't have enemies. He even talked to Graham on the phone a few times, and once while I was on the phone in French class, he walked in and kissed me; I even thought I could live like that forever. It was absolute heaven, then.
I remembered in late November, early December that my mom and stepdad were leaving for their cruise in mid-December, and my grandmother would be staying at home with me for the twelve-ish days; she's outside smoking all the time and usually leaves me to myself. Jimmy and I talked about the "going further" topic and obviously we couldn't do anything at school (because of both indecency and his fear of PDA), and so I revealed that my parents would be gone, and would be leaving me with my absent grandma. A few hours later, it was arranged that he'd be coming over, through my window, some afternoons but whenever he could get out of the house.
The Friday night before my parents left, I had a Christmas-themed show at Ramblin' Rhodes and was to perform "Yule Shoot Your Eye Out" by Fall Out Boy; I had practiced alot and felt I had both vocals and chords down. I somehow managed to drag Jimmy there, and a couple numbers before mine, I started having this drastic nervous breakdown. I was literally shaking, and I felt as though I was going to pass out; never before had I gone through something like that, and I didn't know what was going to happen to my performance. Turns out, I epically failed, utterly embarrassed myself in front of someone I was trying to badly impress (I still blush at it today). I never get stage fright, not ever. Seriously, it was bad; my voice cracked, and my hands were shaking so bad that I couldn't pluck the strings or form chords on the neck. It was my worst nightmare come true. I came home, called Graham, and just cried...
Next day, Saturday, I had to volunteer for my young dance classes, which I enjoy very much, and by noon I was back home. Jimmy was coming over sometime that afternoon, and I had to figure out something to change into and how I was going to somehow block noises of my window, him coming in, and us in my room. As he told me he was leaving, I ended up on turning my music on really loudly and locking the door; the window was already cracked open so that there wouldn't be extra noise in the situation and we could avoid getting caught.
After taking enough Advil and Cola syrup to steady my nerves, he passed by my window, and there was no turning back. I opened the window and helped him take off the screen, and I moved away from the window so he could come through. My mind didn't know what to do, so I let the monster take over, and may I say that make out session was probably one of my personal favorites? The music was on shuffle, and thankfully played no country, and we were body-on-body with no air between us, almost constantly switching positions. As I felt time growing short and he was supposed to be going back home, I got up the courage to pull down his pants and wrap my hand around his boner while he was on top of me; we were still making out, and part of me wanted to make him ejaculate. I moved my hand up and down the way I had done with Graham a few times before, and within a few minutes warm cum was all over my hand; I smiled as we continued to kiss. Sooner or later we got up, after I gave him a fairly large hickey. Graham called my house phone and I answered, not wanting my grandmother to, and I talked to him as though I was doing nothing but the homework I had claimed to be doing earlier. Jimmy hid in the closest so Graham wouldn't be able to hear him or the way I was distracted. He went back out the window, leaving as soon as the screen went back up. I wiped the cum on my white shirt sleeve (there's still a yellow stain, regardless of bleach), rolled up the sleeve, and resumed my day.
Sunday afternoon was the longest time we spent together. Even though we made out fairly hot and heavy, a song came on that made him stop, and we laid side by side on my twin bed while he talked about what "Miserable at Best" by Mayday Parade meant to him. After, we started making out again, and then he told me that he still had never gotten a blowjob, and I was more than willing to give it to him. No one tells you that giving a guy oral sex is acutally harder than it seems in online pornography. Eventually, he came into my mouth, and I swallowed overy drop. Later, a favorite song of mine came up, and we somewhat acted it out sexually, me straddling him while he played around with my breasts. Our hips ground against each other, clothed though, and I found myself actually having fun with it. After nearly two hours, he left again, and I realized I wanted just a little more.
Monday he had guitar lessons and thus couldn't come over, and during that day I has very confused in what I thought I wanted. I knew I was in love with Graham, and that Graham was the only one that could turn me on by just being Graham. I've always thought making out was alot of fun, that fooling around in general was thrilling, but I didn't know if I could stop with Jimmy to be more loyal to Graham. I couldn't distinguish the difference in how I was cheating with Jimmy, if it was to have fun with kisses and actions or if it was to be with Jimmy and finish what we had started in seventh grade. To figure that out, I knew that we had to have sex.
When I cheated with Mitchell the first time (see Mitchell), I didn't go very far at all because Graham and I hadn't done anything but make out essentially, and I didn't want to go further with Mitchell than I had gone with Graham; at the time with Jimmy that weekend, Graham and I had done everything under the sun (except anal because we both view it as...weird, to say the least) so I didn't feel as bad about it.
I started thinking in the week leading up to the affair's climax about if I got pregnant, and so I brought that up in a conversation with Jimmy; even I was on Yaz (still am), I had just started a new pack and during the first week it is possible to get knocked up. I asked him what would have happened if I did, and he said that his friend Jordan gave him an extra condom, so he was convinced I wouldn't get pregnant. I continued to talk about it though, saying condoms can break or just be faulty, and eventually just agreed on I would do what I needed to do and he'd still get the extent of education he wanted (it never came to that).
Tuesday after school, he was over again, and at least my intentions were clear, but so were his; he got me naked, and I got him that way, too. We made out like before, bodies pushed against each other, but I wasn't comfortable (later I found out why). I was practically begging him for it, and he didn't seem sure, but I knew that to figure out the war in my head I needed it. He got the condom out of his pants on the floor, opened it, and put it over himself (I've never used condoms with Graham and never will, so I had no idea how to put one on...). I was on top, and I attempted riding him, but I was so self-conscious (I always am anyway, but he has forever amplified that feeling) that I couldn't function like I had with Graham. So we switched positions. He started thrusting into me, and I was meeting him with my own version of them, but we were more mechanically in-sync than sexually. I figured out when he came in the condom, and he attempted eating me out (definitely NOT the way Graham did it so...it wasn't nearly as good as when Graham eats me). He stopped and got off of me, peeling of the used condom and threw it in my trash can. We redressed in compete silence except for the blaring music, and I got ready for dance class without even looking at him. He noticed.
"Hey," he said, getting close to me. "Something up?"
I shook my head. "No, I'm fine, really." He laughed.
"I know when you're thinking about something." He wrapped his arms around me, and I pulled a fake smile.
"Don't worry about it, I'm alright." We made out again, and he went back out the window and put the screen back in place for the last time.
Summary of the sex: I'm taking into account that he was a virgin (or at least that's what he had told me...) and the condom takes away feeling, but overall...I figured out that the reason for the affair was about eighty percent to have fun and be free for awhile, to thrill myself and stay young and not grow up and be mature like I usually am. Remaining twenty percent was to figure out whether or not Jimmy and I were done sexually; we were done (to this day I preach to anyone that will listen to wait until they don't have to use a condom during sex because CONDOM SEX SUCKS!).
We didn't talk much at all after sleeping together, both at school and via text message. I was upset at this fact, but I didn't want to let it show much. Winter break came, and we barely talked then too; I was sick to the point of throwing up some, and I told him so, but he didn't really take note of it. A few days before school was back in session, he started asking me if I had gotten my period yet; I replied with no, but it made me think, so I checked my calendar; I was due that day. I wasn't really worried, because my period does occasionally come a day late. Next day, he asked the same question and I replied with the same answer; following day, same thing. After, he stopped talking to me altogether. The first day of school came around (complete power outage, no less) and everyone was put together in the cafeteria; I continued to see Jimmy walking around, and I had been texting him. No reply. Next day at the end of school, I texted him, asking if he was going to continue to ignore me. He replied by saying, essentially, that he didn't care about me or what happened to me. To my surprise, I went home and cried, calling Graham to talk about it (he didn't know about the affair at this point.)
Weeks went by, period still MIA (something that had never happened in the three years I'd been menstrating), and I was freaking out, but what could I do but just live normal life? This included rigorous dancing (preparation for the recital in June) and working out at the YMCA. Sure enough, a period-like thing appeared (no, I am not evaluating further).
Looking back at this months later, I want to say that I regret all of it and that I wish it never happened, but I only regret the sex, to be honest. The rest of it thrilled me to no end, and I had noticed that I really hadn't been free before to explore myself as a normal high schooler (at this very moment, I prefer my fast-track, bored with high school, overly mature, madly-in-love self over the self I thought I was in December). Jimmy and I haven't talked since that second day of third quarter, and I don't know how I feel about that. I have so many questions left unanswered, and I despise knowing that they most likely will never be answered. I told Graham about the affair a few weeks later, at the end of January, and since then he's forgiven me and, like always, we're better than we were before. I've never liked hurting him, but I've hated keeping secrets from him more.
I feel like this past "relationship" with Jimmy was the last one, seeing as not only doesn't he even look at me in the slightest at school but I couldn't talk to him anyway. He also has a new girlfriend, apparently. Was I just the only relatively normal person stupid enough to like him, to (at one time) fall in love with him? It's really stupid to not like someone you've never met, but there's just this different kind of hurt that comes along when someone you care about (yes I still care; no idea why however) and have had sexual relations with goes out with someone new and you know they've got to be doing things that you two were doing together.
Perhaps I'm pathetic, but I don't really notice it anymore. Getting my feelings out takes top priority these days, and I refuse to make my problems higher than a problem my friend is having (and if I talked to Graham about this, he would absolutely FLIP).
This is the end of James Richard's story. Unless something new happens.
Love,
Caitlyn
So between November 2009 and August 2008, Jimmy and I weren't talking much at all. I do remember that in October 2008 we started a comment chat on one of my videos from that summer, but it only lasted maybe a week. My first day of eighth grade I didn't expect to see him, but he was walking around campus, though I was looking for my lost, sixth grade cousin and couldn't exactly focus.
Freshman year for high school began August 2009, and I knew that I'd be seeing him again, but I was prepared for feeling...anxious about the situation. Since I can remember, I never really felt comfortable around him; I would always feel my heart pounding with adrenaline, the "Fight or Flight" response, and usually my mind reacted with "flee." I couldn't help the fact that our lockers were (and still are) close together, almost too close for comfort, so I didn't do anything about it. I was just grateful to have a locker near all of my classes.
Our only contact was through YouTube, and on my website panel I had put my Twitter address, which was public, but I didn't think he'd actually be reading it. During an outdoor pep rally I had tweeted, because he was sitting maybe three or four rows back, that it freaked me out with him so close to me. When the bell rang I went through my normal routine of locker then car, and we passed by each other; he waved, and it caught me very off-guard. Later he posted a comment on my YouTube page referencing the tweet, equally catching me off-guard. This was in September, I guess.
My best friend Chelsi, during the first semester, and I were going through a phase where we would disagree about something, usually to do with one of our mutual friends, and then we wouldn't talk for a week or two before realizing we were both stupid and made up, though the make-up never lasted long. In mid-October, Jimmy and I had started communicating through YouTube again, and after a particularly nasty episode with Chelsi and me about Halloween plans, I asked him for help on how to deal with it and whatnot. After a few hours, it turned into us being actual friends, with exchanged numbers and everything; if I recall correctly, he was the one initiating the cell phone contact.
Within that first week back at school, we were talking via text most of the time at home and walking with each other through the hallways. He would even meet me by my locker at the end of the day and walk me to where my carpool waited in the back. He'd make me laugh and just essentially make my day.
Our text conversations were deeply personal, for both of us I still believe, and then I came up with this insane thought process that I really wanted to kiss him. Badly. I fed this story to Graham that I was going to scare Chelsi, and I first told Jimmy it was going to be kind of a friends-with-benefits situation that later changed to the same story I told my fiance; I think he may have known my true intentions, (because he's always been so good at getting me...) but he didn't show it if he did. So Graham rejected the idea, and Jimmy was for it, so at that point I manipulated the offer further and asked if he liked the kissing after I got to scare Chelsi (it had turned out to be a motive, in part), then could we continue doing so. He agreed.
So that Monday at school, right after first period, Jimmy and I came together by the Geometry room in the 300 building; I noticed Chelsi before the kiss, but during... I couldn't think. I had forgotten my surroundings and could only focus on that kiss. Calling it "kissing" is saying it nicely; bluntly, we were making out against the wall and disgusting, apparently, some of the students passing by. After the kiss, walking to my second period, the monster woke up inside of me and immediately wanted more. Later that day, we talked some about it, and though he did want more (I'm only going by what he said), he was worried I'd feel bad about betraying Graham. I said that I was over the guilty phase and could move on. We didn't do anything else for the rest of the week, but we still were together after school.
The weekend came and we talked even more about what had happened and what we were going to do about it, and the subject popped up once about one day possibly going even further than locked lips, and even though it was somewhat dismissed then, I didn't stop thinking about it. That next week at school, the affair continued, mostly daily. I'd go to my locker, he'd meet me, and we'd make out before I had to leave; as much as it kills me to say this, I loved it. I loved that I had the best of both worlds, I loved that I didn't have enemies. He even talked to Graham on the phone a few times, and once while I was on the phone in French class, he walked in and kissed me; I even thought I could live like that forever. It was absolute heaven, then.
I remembered in late November, early December that my mom and stepdad were leaving for their cruise in mid-December, and my grandmother would be staying at home with me for the twelve-ish days; she's outside smoking all the time and usually leaves me to myself. Jimmy and I talked about the "going further" topic and obviously we couldn't do anything at school (because of both indecency and his fear of PDA), and so I revealed that my parents would be gone, and would be leaving me with my absent grandma. A few hours later, it was arranged that he'd be coming over, through my window, some afternoons but whenever he could get out of the house.
The Friday night before my parents left, I had a Christmas-themed show at Ramblin' Rhodes and was to perform "Yule Shoot Your Eye Out" by Fall Out Boy; I had practiced alot and felt I had both vocals and chords down. I somehow managed to drag Jimmy there, and a couple numbers before mine, I started having this drastic nervous breakdown. I was literally shaking, and I felt as though I was going to pass out; never before had I gone through something like that, and I didn't know what was going to happen to my performance. Turns out, I epically failed, utterly embarrassed myself in front of someone I was trying to badly impress (I still blush at it today). I never get stage fright, not ever. Seriously, it was bad; my voice cracked, and my hands were shaking so bad that I couldn't pluck the strings or form chords on the neck. It was my worst nightmare come true. I came home, called Graham, and just cried...
Next day, Saturday, I had to volunteer for my young dance classes, which I enjoy very much, and by noon I was back home. Jimmy was coming over sometime that afternoon, and I had to figure out something to change into and how I was going to somehow block noises of my window, him coming in, and us in my room. As he told me he was leaving, I ended up on turning my music on really loudly and locking the door; the window was already cracked open so that there wouldn't be extra noise in the situation and we could avoid getting caught.
After taking enough Advil and Cola syrup to steady my nerves, he passed by my window, and there was no turning back. I opened the window and helped him take off the screen, and I moved away from the window so he could come through. My mind didn't know what to do, so I let the monster take over, and may I say that make out session was probably one of my personal favorites? The music was on shuffle, and thankfully played no country, and we were body-on-body with no air between us, almost constantly switching positions. As I felt time growing short and he was supposed to be going back home, I got up the courage to pull down his pants and wrap my hand around his boner while he was on top of me; we were still making out, and part of me wanted to make him ejaculate. I moved my hand up and down the way I had done with Graham a few times before, and within a few minutes warm cum was all over my hand; I smiled as we continued to kiss. Sooner or later we got up, after I gave him a fairly large hickey. Graham called my house phone and I answered, not wanting my grandmother to, and I talked to him as though I was doing nothing but the homework I had claimed to be doing earlier. Jimmy hid in the closest so Graham wouldn't be able to hear him or the way I was distracted. He went back out the window, leaving as soon as the screen went back up. I wiped the cum on my white shirt sleeve (there's still a yellow stain, regardless of bleach), rolled up the sleeve, and resumed my day.
Sunday afternoon was the longest time we spent together. Even though we made out fairly hot and heavy, a song came on that made him stop, and we laid side by side on my twin bed while he talked about what "Miserable at Best" by Mayday Parade meant to him. After, we started making out again, and then he told me that he still had never gotten a blowjob, and I was more than willing to give it to him. No one tells you that giving a guy oral sex is acutally harder than it seems in online pornography. Eventually, he came into my mouth, and I swallowed overy drop. Later, a favorite song of mine came up, and we somewhat acted it out sexually, me straddling him while he played around with my breasts. Our hips ground against each other, clothed though, and I found myself actually having fun with it. After nearly two hours, he left again, and I realized I wanted just a little more.
Monday he had guitar lessons and thus couldn't come over, and during that day I has very confused in what I thought I wanted. I knew I was in love with Graham, and that Graham was the only one that could turn me on by just being Graham. I've always thought making out was alot of fun, that fooling around in general was thrilling, but I didn't know if I could stop with Jimmy to be more loyal to Graham. I couldn't distinguish the difference in how I was cheating with Jimmy, if it was to have fun with kisses and actions or if it was to be with Jimmy and finish what we had started in seventh grade. To figure that out, I knew that we had to have sex.
When I cheated with Mitchell the first time (see Mitchell), I didn't go very far at all because Graham and I hadn't done anything but make out essentially, and I didn't want to go further with Mitchell than I had gone with Graham; at the time with Jimmy that weekend, Graham and I had done everything under the sun (except anal because we both view it as...weird, to say the least) so I didn't feel as bad about it.
I started thinking in the week leading up to the affair's climax about if I got pregnant, and so I brought that up in a conversation with Jimmy; even I was on Yaz (still am), I had just started a new pack and during the first week it is possible to get knocked up. I asked him what would have happened if I did, and he said that his friend Jordan gave him an extra condom, so he was convinced I wouldn't get pregnant. I continued to talk about it though, saying condoms can break or just be faulty, and eventually just agreed on I would do what I needed to do and he'd still get the extent of education he wanted (it never came to that).
Tuesday after school, he was over again, and at least my intentions were clear, but so were his; he got me naked, and I got him that way, too. We made out like before, bodies pushed against each other, but I wasn't comfortable (later I found out why). I was practically begging him for it, and he didn't seem sure, but I knew that to figure out the war in my head I needed it. He got the condom out of his pants on the floor, opened it, and put it over himself (I've never used condoms with Graham and never will, so I had no idea how to put one on...). I was on top, and I attempted riding him, but I was so self-conscious (I always am anyway, but he has forever amplified that feeling) that I couldn't function like I had with Graham. So we switched positions. He started thrusting into me, and I was meeting him with my own version of them, but we were more mechanically in-sync than sexually. I figured out when he came in the condom, and he attempted eating me out (definitely NOT the way Graham did it so...it wasn't nearly as good as when Graham eats me). He stopped and got off of me, peeling of the used condom and threw it in my trash can. We redressed in compete silence except for the blaring music, and I got ready for dance class without even looking at him. He noticed.
"Hey," he said, getting close to me. "Something up?"
I shook my head. "No, I'm fine, really." He laughed.
"I know when you're thinking about something." He wrapped his arms around me, and I pulled a fake smile.
"Don't worry about it, I'm alright." We made out again, and he went back out the window and put the screen back in place for the last time.
Summary of the sex: I'm taking into account that he was a virgin (or at least that's what he had told me...) and the condom takes away feeling, but overall...I figured out that the reason for the affair was about eighty percent to have fun and be free for awhile, to thrill myself and stay young and not grow up and be mature like I usually am. Remaining twenty percent was to figure out whether or not Jimmy and I were done sexually; we were done (to this day I preach to anyone that will listen to wait until they don't have to use a condom during sex because CONDOM SEX SUCKS!).
We didn't talk much at all after sleeping together, both at school and via text message. I was upset at this fact, but I didn't want to let it show much. Winter break came, and we barely talked then too; I was sick to the point of throwing up some, and I told him so, but he didn't really take note of it. A few days before school was back in session, he started asking me if I had gotten my period yet; I replied with no, but it made me think, so I checked my calendar; I was due that day. I wasn't really worried, because my period does occasionally come a day late. Next day, he asked the same question and I replied with the same answer; following day, same thing. After, he stopped talking to me altogether. The first day of school came around (complete power outage, no less) and everyone was put together in the cafeteria; I continued to see Jimmy walking around, and I had been texting him. No reply. Next day at the end of school, I texted him, asking if he was going to continue to ignore me. He replied by saying, essentially, that he didn't care about me or what happened to me. To my surprise, I went home and cried, calling Graham to talk about it (he didn't know about the affair at this point.)
Weeks went by, period still MIA (something that had never happened in the three years I'd been menstrating), and I was freaking out, but what could I do but just live normal life? This included rigorous dancing (preparation for the recital in June) and working out at the YMCA. Sure enough, a period-like thing appeared (no, I am not evaluating further).
Looking back at this months later, I want to say that I regret all of it and that I wish it never happened, but I only regret the sex, to be honest. The rest of it thrilled me to no end, and I had noticed that I really hadn't been free before to explore myself as a normal high schooler (at this very moment, I prefer my fast-track, bored with high school, overly mature, madly-in-love self over the self I thought I was in December). Jimmy and I haven't talked since that second day of third quarter, and I don't know how I feel about that. I have so many questions left unanswered, and I despise knowing that they most likely will never be answered. I told Graham about the affair a few weeks later, at the end of January, and since then he's forgiven me and, like always, we're better than we were before. I've never liked hurting him, but I've hated keeping secrets from him more.
I feel like this past "relationship" with Jimmy was the last one, seeing as not only doesn't he even look at me in the slightest at school but I couldn't talk to him anyway. He also has a new girlfriend, apparently. Was I just the only relatively normal person stupid enough to like him, to (at one time) fall in love with him? It's really stupid to not like someone you've never met, but there's just this different kind of hurt that comes along when someone you care about (yes I still care; no idea why however) and have had sexual relations with goes out with someone new and you know they've got to be doing things that you two were doing together.
Perhaps I'm pathetic, but I don't really notice it anymore. Getting my feelings out takes top priority these days, and I refuse to make my problems higher than a problem my friend is having (and if I talked to Graham about this, he would absolutely FLIP).
This is the end of James Richard's story. Unless something new happens.
Love,
Caitlyn
Monday, April 12, 2010
Saturday, April 10, 2010
"That One Picture on FaceBook That Was Up For, Like, Ten Minutes?"
One night, I took a picture of myself looking rather pregnant. It was on Facebook for all of maybe ten or fifteen minutes before my mom made me take it down.
Originally, I was very bored and I wanted to entertain myself; I added Graham to it because he, too, sounded a tad bored to me. As I was about to send it to him, I figured why not put it on Facebook. Got to get a little fun out of it, right? That harmless prank, in my eyes, turned into a "plot" of sorts to get girls where Graham lives to stay away from him. As soon as the latest purpose for the picture started working, I had to delete it.
Graham, as I've said before, lives in North Carolina, and I am in Florida, so some aspects of our relationship are harder than others. When we both were committed to each other, I knowingly signed up for the girls where he lives to be flirty, attracted to him even, but when he's friends with the girls that are flirting with him and attracted to him, that's where I draw the line to my sanity. I had thought that if they all knew that he had a pregnant fiance, then they'd back off, but as you readers know, that didn't happen.
A deal has been made for him to stop talking to any other girl that has been known to flirt with him or be attracted to him, but when this picture went up, I struck up a conversation with the girl in his life that I disliked the most: Lauren. Not only were they friends, but she was attracted to him, and he was attracted to her. Later I found out that she had kissed him, that their legs had been intertwined together, and that he had gotten a somewhat erection from the friction. But still, after talking to her I decided to let up on his restriction of her.
What really sucks is that I can't get the thought of them out of my head. I mean, I know I've done alot to Graham in the past few months (more on this in "Him" part 2), but I was never actually attracted to anyone I did something with. There's a difference in acknowledging someone is good-looking by any standards and thinking someone is attractive by personal standards, isn't there?
I wish he could just stop making me feel bad about wanting him to stop being around girls that pose problems. I've completely stopped being around guys that could pose problems to him, so why can't he do the same for me? I mean, I'm not scared that he'd leave me for one of those girls, I'm not scared that he'd more seriously cheat on me with one of those girls, but it's just one of those things that comes along with being in a long distance relationship. If he lived here or I lived there, we wouldn't be having these issues, but unfortunately the world hates us enough to keep us apart until we both hit eighteen.
Love,
Caitlyn
Originally, I was very bored and I wanted to entertain myself; I added Graham to it because he, too, sounded a tad bored to me. As I was about to send it to him, I figured why not put it on Facebook. Got to get a little fun out of it, right? That harmless prank, in my eyes, turned into a "plot" of sorts to get girls where Graham lives to stay away from him. As soon as the latest purpose for the picture started working, I had to delete it.
Graham, as I've said before, lives in North Carolina, and I am in Florida, so some aspects of our relationship are harder than others. When we both were committed to each other, I knowingly signed up for the girls where he lives to be flirty, attracted to him even, but when he's friends with the girls that are flirting with him and attracted to him, that's where I draw the line to my sanity. I had thought that if they all knew that he had a pregnant fiance, then they'd back off, but as you readers know, that didn't happen.
A deal has been made for him to stop talking to any other girl that has been known to flirt with him or be attracted to him, but when this picture went up, I struck up a conversation with the girl in his life that I disliked the most: Lauren. Not only were they friends, but she was attracted to him, and he was attracted to her. Later I found out that she had kissed him, that their legs had been intertwined together, and that he had gotten a somewhat erection from the friction. But still, after talking to her I decided to let up on his restriction of her.
What really sucks is that I can't get the thought of them out of my head. I mean, I know I've done alot to Graham in the past few months (more on this in "Him" part 2), but I was never actually attracted to anyone I did something with. There's a difference in acknowledging someone is good-looking by any standards and thinking someone is attractive by personal standards, isn't there?
I wish he could just stop making me feel bad about wanting him to stop being around girls that pose problems. I've completely stopped being around guys that could pose problems to him, so why can't he do the same for me? I mean, I'm not scared that he'd leave me for one of those girls, I'm not scared that he'd more seriously cheat on me with one of those girls, but it's just one of those things that comes along with being in a long distance relationship. If he lived here or I lived there, we wouldn't be having these issues, but unfortunately the world hates us enough to keep us apart until we both hit eighteen.
Love,
Caitlyn
Mitchell
We were bandmates. I was their singer and rhythm guitarist, Weston was our drummer, Taylor (later Lauren) our lead guitarist, and Mitchell was the bassist. Being in a band was probably some of the most fun I had ever had; it gave me the chance to live single again. I joined the Ramblin' Rhodes (where I was taking guitar lessons) band in February 2009.
First practice was just Weston and me, our song for the upcoming show being "Dyer Maker" by Led Zeppelin, and we were trying to get my chords down with his drum beat. I was eager to meet the other bandmates, to practice with them considering the show was in a couple of weeks. I got lucky the next Friday night, since we all had gotten together at last to practice. No microphone, I had to essentially scream out those God-awful lyrics and figure out what I was playing and stay in time with the others. Taylor had no idea what he was doing, seeing as he was the youngest of us (though Weston was the least mature), and it seemed like the only other serious one besides me was Mitch. Nine thirty that night rolled around, and my dad picked me up for his weekend; we tried to exchange numbers but I was in a hurry to get to bed so I told Weston to give Taylor and Mitch my cell number (he knew both my house and my cell); I expected calls from everyone to tell me when in the world we were going to practice next. We were so awful that we needed every little minute we could get.
All we could muster was a little half hour check right before the show, and we epically failed "Dyer Maker," but we also played "Seven Nation Army" by the White Stripes, so it wasn't a total loss. After performing, we decided to go out on the plaza that surrounded Ramblin' Rhodes, deciding on Five Guys to discuss the next show. While Weston and Taylor picked out their meals, I saved a table with Mitchell.
"Have you been avoiding me?" He had asked.
"You're the one that's been avoiding me, if anything. Didn't Weston give you my number?" He went through his phone and showed me the contact number.
"I've been trying to text you, but you never answered." I had to laugh, because the only number he had was my house number, and I told him so. "Damn it," he breathed, and he put in the right mobile number for me. "Weston gave me the wrong number." We didn't really want the rest of the band to hear our private conversation, so we texted the rest of the night, all the way until I was home and getting ready for bed, talking to Graham on the phone like usual. That's when Mitchell asked me out.
He had told me he really liked me, especially after all the talking we had been doing. I replied back, explaining how I had a boyfriend and wasn't going to cheat on him because I loved him too much. Mitch took it well, or so I thought. I began to think that I had averted a crisis, considering a long distance relationship (which is what Graham and I have considering he lives in North Carolina) is going to have threats of others trying to get with one of us. That is, until I realized I may like Mitchell back.
I was set out to make sure I didn't do anything, and so I had Graham pretend that I did cheat and release any feeling that came to him; it worked a little too well. In the end, all I felt was fear, and that fear was of Graham himself. I was so scared that I practically ran into Mitchell's "arms," so to speak. I sent Mitch the entire conversation between Graham and me, and it resulted in the beginning of an "affair."
Since we couldn't let Weston or Taylor know about us, we couldn't push a practice on the band so we could be together. So I came up with a "brilliant" idea: sexting. It had no pictures involved, just words and ideas; Graham and I had been using the same thing quite alot, and it proved helpful in our distance, and in my lapse of judgement on the entire situation, I thought sexting would be the cure. Turns out that Mitchell didn't quite get the concept, even though we stayed up until one in the morning one school night to "be together." We attempted the same feeling a couple of other nights, but we never again stayed up quite that late.
Finally, Mitchell and I got our band practice to be together, and seeing as we usually never get much practice time in, we both got calls from Weston to bring our bathing suits. Once at Weston's place (practice was either there or at Ramblin' Rhodes, seeing as drums aren't easy to transport), we changed into our suits and jumped into the water. Mitchell was late, as usual, and while the "young ones" played with their waterguns, Mitchell and I sat talking about things, but not related to our affair. It was kind of obvious, however; we were sitting fairly close together, in the pool, and my suit wasn't the most...covered. Eventually we got out and dried off long enough to practice a little before we all jumped back into the pool again; afterwards, we all decided to play a little football in the street. It didn't take long for Taylor to become tired of it, and Weston came up with the idea to walk to the park not long from his house. Mitchell and I attempted to hold hands when no one was looking, but our drummer just kept looking back at us.
Once at the park, Weston had run off looking for Taylor, who just loved to run away from us when we were trying to be serious. Mitchell and I were alone, and he reminded me of a promise I had made him during one of our nightly talks; the promise was to be his first kiss and to teach him how to make out. I still had a conscience about this whole cheating thing, and I tried to stay away from anything physical, but as soon as I was about to kiss him, Weston appeared. He had caught us really close together, and so he pulled me aside to talk to me, which was where I spilled everything that was going on and planned between Mitchell and I. Meeting Mitch again, the look on my face told him we were found out. Returning to Weston's house, our parents were there and waiting for us, so Mitchell and I never really got our "proper" goodbye.
Later on, I told Graham about what had happened, and he wasn't happy about it; in fact, he talked to Mitchell via AIM once, and the conversation wasn't pretty. A couple days later, Mitchell and I had this talk about what was going to happen to us; I vouched for being friends, because he was my best guy friend and I didn't want to lose touch with him. He wanted more from me, telling me to break up with Graham and be with him instead, but I refused; he quit talking to me after yelling at me (leaving me crying), and I found out that night from Weston that he also quit the band. Graham was happy, and I told everyone else that I was, too, but reality was I couldn't help but feel devastated at the loss of a good friend. Even though he wanted from me more than I could give, he still listened to what I had to say when I could tell no one else.
Months went by without hearing from him when about late August came around, and he rejoined the band and texted me, saying he was sorry and wanted to be friends again. I agreed as long as he didn't try anything. He promised not to, with a smiley face at the end.
Mitchell continued to be the best friend I needed, especially when I was doing things with Jimmy (more on this in "Him" part 2) and couldn't really talk about it. He continuously told me he thought of me like his little sister "even though you're older than me," he had said. I always thought of him like a brother I never had, because I loved him like I would love a brother. Our song became "Hey, Soul Sister" by Train, and I loved it.
While I was baking one night, he told me that he had had sex with this girl, and of course he told me first; in fact, I was one of the only ones he ever told, or so he told me at the time. I was happy for him, just like anyone would be happy for someone else when they finally lost their virginity.
In November, after I had quit the band in October, their singer couldn't perform so I offered to fill in for her, seeing as I already knew the song. The only person that was happy to see me was Mitchell, and I was just glad to be back onstage again.
January came around, and Graham and I weren't really in the best of places because of some failed things at our recent visit, and I was very desperate for action. I had locked away what I felt for Mitchell, knowing that my love for him wasn't for that of a brother, but not really for that of a lover. Upon talking to him about what I was feeling, he confessed that he never stopped actually loving me, and he also told me that while he had had sex, he really had never gotten his first kiss. We brought up that old promise I had made to him to be his first kiss and teach him how to make out, and I agreed to it without hesitation. He had an extra practice for the band on Martin Luther King Jr. day that we had been planning to use as a hangout day, just me and him, but plans change.
That day, Mitchell and Weston picked me up at my house while I was on Skype with Graham; Weston was the only one that talked to Graham before I left with the two of them. Mitchell had filled Weston in on what was going on with him and me in order to be shown where my house was. When we got to the back of the Ramblin' Rhodes building, Weston ran off with the other members of the band (including my replacements) so we could be alone. I kissed him, and it didn't take long for that one kiss to turn into a hungry make out session against a wall. Sooner or later he had to go back inside to practice the band's next song, and I went with him to both hear how they were and to play one of the guitars. Listening to how good they were, I started crying and went outside to call Graham and tell him how I was feeling about the whole thing. I regretted quitting (and still do) and missed being on stage with my friends. I hid in this mini alleyway to talk and cry, letting Graham go so I could finish. Weston found me and got Mitchell; after Mitch comforting me, telling me that it was okay, I got over myself and continued our previous make out session, adding in some touches from him and a slight hand down the pants from me. I checked the time and knew it was almost time for him to take me home, so with a very quick kiss, tongue and all, I turned and started walking away; he grabbed me by the arm and swung me back against the wall for our last kiss.
Walking me home, we started talking about when we'd see each other again, if really ever. He said he enjoyed that afternoon, and with a hug goodbye on my driveway, I walked back to my front door, watching him walk away with a smile.
At my best girl friend Chelsi's party, it was the first night I had my phone back, and I had previously for over a month tried talking to Mitchell about the kind of stuff we used to talk about, but he stopped replying to my messages. I tried calling his cell phone on my house phone, but he never answered or returned my calls. So that night I texted him, and we talked briefly enough for him to tell me that I hurt him far beyond what he could take and that was the last I ever heard of him; this was early March.
Later on when Graham and I had a nasty break up for a few days, I confessed to the aforementioned make out session; since we weren't really together when I told him, he wasn't really upset about it; he just told me about what he had been doing behind my back (more later, if you ask for it). However, when we got back together and talked about what was going on, we agreed that if he stopped talking to the girls around him then I would stop talking to both Mitchell and Jimmy. Jimmy I could live with not talking to, but I was hesitant with cutting off my ties with Mitchell. I still loved (as in cared about) him, probably more than I should have allowed myself, but I can't help what I feel sometimes and even though he had really hurt me with what he had said, I still wanted to be able to talk to him. I knew, though, that if I didn't agree then the deal wouldn't go through and Graham and I would have more problems, so I deleted both contacts from my phone without a second thought.
Regardless of me knowing that talking to either one of them again, especially Mitchell (but equally Jimmy...more in "Him" part 2), would get Graham extremely upset, I want my best guy friend back. I want reconnection. I want to be able to listen to "Hey, Soul Sister" and not want to cry my eyes out. I want my "brother" back.
Too bad it's probably never going to happen. Too bad I've probably hurt him too much for him to ever talk to me again. Too bad I've done too much to him for him to really want me as his "sister" and to really love me back the way I love him.
Love,
Caitlyn
First practice was just Weston and me, our song for the upcoming show being "Dyer Maker" by Led Zeppelin, and we were trying to get my chords down with his drum beat. I was eager to meet the other bandmates, to practice with them considering the show was in a couple of weeks. I got lucky the next Friday night, since we all had gotten together at last to practice. No microphone, I had to essentially scream out those God-awful lyrics and figure out what I was playing and stay in time with the others. Taylor had no idea what he was doing, seeing as he was the youngest of us (though Weston was the least mature), and it seemed like the only other serious one besides me was Mitch. Nine thirty that night rolled around, and my dad picked me up for his weekend; we tried to exchange numbers but I was in a hurry to get to bed so I told Weston to give Taylor and Mitch my cell number (he knew both my house and my cell); I expected calls from everyone to tell me when in the world we were going to practice next. We were so awful that we needed every little minute we could get.
All we could muster was a little half hour check right before the show, and we epically failed "Dyer Maker," but we also played "Seven Nation Army" by the White Stripes, so it wasn't a total loss. After performing, we decided to go out on the plaza that surrounded Ramblin' Rhodes, deciding on Five Guys to discuss the next show. While Weston and Taylor picked out their meals, I saved a table with Mitchell.
"Have you been avoiding me?" He had asked.
"You're the one that's been avoiding me, if anything. Didn't Weston give you my number?" He went through his phone and showed me the contact number.
"I've been trying to text you, but you never answered." I had to laugh, because the only number he had was my house number, and I told him so. "Damn it," he breathed, and he put in the right mobile number for me. "Weston gave me the wrong number." We didn't really want the rest of the band to hear our private conversation, so we texted the rest of the night, all the way until I was home and getting ready for bed, talking to Graham on the phone like usual. That's when Mitchell asked me out.
He had told me he really liked me, especially after all the talking we had been doing. I replied back, explaining how I had a boyfriend and wasn't going to cheat on him because I loved him too much. Mitch took it well, or so I thought. I began to think that I had averted a crisis, considering a long distance relationship (which is what Graham and I have considering he lives in North Carolina) is going to have threats of others trying to get with one of us. That is, until I realized I may like Mitchell back.
I was set out to make sure I didn't do anything, and so I had Graham pretend that I did cheat and release any feeling that came to him; it worked a little too well. In the end, all I felt was fear, and that fear was of Graham himself. I was so scared that I practically ran into Mitchell's "arms," so to speak. I sent Mitch the entire conversation between Graham and me, and it resulted in the beginning of an "affair."
Since we couldn't let Weston or Taylor know about us, we couldn't push a practice on the band so we could be together. So I came up with a "brilliant" idea: sexting. It had no pictures involved, just words and ideas; Graham and I had been using the same thing quite alot, and it proved helpful in our distance, and in my lapse of judgement on the entire situation, I thought sexting would be the cure. Turns out that Mitchell didn't quite get the concept, even though we stayed up until one in the morning one school night to "be together." We attempted the same feeling a couple of other nights, but we never again stayed up quite that late.
Finally, Mitchell and I got our band practice to be together, and seeing as we usually never get much practice time in, we both got calls from Weston to bring our bathing suits. Once at Weston's place (practice was either there or at Ramblin' Rhodes, seeing as drums aren't easy to transport), we changed into our suits and jumped into the water. Mitchell was late, as usual, and while the "young ones" played with their waterguns, Mitchell and I sat talking about things, but not related to our affair. It was kind of obvious, however; we were sitting fairly close together, in the pool, and my suit wasn't the most...covered. Eventually we got out and dried off long enough to practice a little before we all jumped back into the pool again; afterwards, we all decided to play a little football in the street. It didn't take long for Taylor to become tired of it, and Weston came up with the idea to walk to the park not long from his house. Mitchell and I attempted to hold hands when no one was looking, but our drummer just kept looking back at us.
Once at the park, Weston had run off looking for Taylor, who just loved to run away from us when we were trying to be serious. Mitchell and I were alone, and he reminded me of a promise I had made him during one of our nightly talks; the promise was to be his first kiss and to teach him how to make out. I still had a conscience about this whole cheating thing, and I tried to stay away from anything physical, but as soon as I was about to kiss him, Weston appeared. He had caught us really close together, and so he pulled me aside to talk to me, which was where I spilled everything that was going on and planned between Mitchell and I. Meeting Mitch again, the look on my face told him we were found out. Returning to Weston's house, our parents were there and waiting for us, so Mitchell and I never really got our "proper" goodbye.
Later on, I told Graham about what had happened, and he wasn't happy about it; in fact, he talked to Mitchell via AIM once, and the conversation wasn't pretty. A couple days later, Mitchell and I had this talk about what was going to happen to us; I vouched for being friends, because he was my best guy friend and I didn't want to lose touch with him. He wanted more from me, telling me to break up with Graham and be with him instead, but I refused; he quit talking to me after yelling at me (leaving me crying), and I found out that night from Weston that he also quit the band. Graham was happy, and I told everyone else that I was, too, but reality was I couldn't help but feel devastated at the loss of a good friend. Even though he wanted from me more than I could give, he still listened to what I had to say when I could tell no one else.
Months went by without hearing from him when about late August came around, and he rejoined the band and texted me, saying he was sorry and wanted to be friends again. I agreed as long as he didn't try anything. He promised not to, with a smiley face at the end.
Mitchell continued to be the best friend I needed, especially when I was doing things with Jimmy (more on this in "Him" part 2) and couldn't really talk about it. He continuously told me he thought of me like his little sister "even though you're older than me," he had said. I always thought of him like a brother I never had, because I loved him like I would love a brother. Our song became "Hey, Soul Sister" by Train, and I loved it.
While I was baking one night, he told me that he had had sex with this girl, and of course he told me first; in fact, I was one of the only ones he ever told, or so he told me at the time. I was happy for him, just like anyone would be happy for someone else when they finally lost their virginity.
In November, after I had quit the band in October, their singer couldn't perform so I offered to fill in for her, seeing as I already knew the song. The only person that was happy to see me was Mitchell, and I was just glad to be back onstage again.
January came around, and Graham and I weren't really in the best of places because of some failed things at our recent visit, and I was very desperate for action. I had locked away what I felt for Mitchell, knowing that my love for him wasn't for that of a brother, but not really for that of a lover. Upon talking to him about what I was feeling, he confessed that he never stopped actually loving me, and he also told me that while he had had sex, he really had never gotten his first kiss. We brought up that old promise I had made to him to be his first kiss and teach him how to make out, and I agreed to it without hesitation. He had an extra practice for the band on Martin Luther King Jr. day that we had been planning to use as a hangout day, just me and him, but plans change.
That day, Mitchell and Weston picked me up at my house while I was on Skype with Graham; Weston was the only one that talked to Graham before I left with the two of them. Mitchell had filled Weston in on what was going on with him and me in order to be shown where my house was. When we got to the back of the Ramblin' Rhodes building, Weston ran off with the other members of the band (including my replacements) so we could be alone. I kissed him, and it didn't take long for that one kiss to turn into a hungry make out session against a wall. Sooner or later he had to go back inside to practice the band's next song, and I went with him to both hear how they were and to play one of the guitars. Listening to how good they were, I started crying and went outside to call Graham and tell him how I was feeling about the whole thing. I regretted quitting (and still do) and missed being on stage with my friends. I hid in this mini alleyway to talk and cry, letting Graham go so I could finish. Weston found me and got Mitchell; after Mitch comforting me, telling me that it was okay, I got over myself and continued our previous make out session, adding in some touches from him and a slight hand down the pants from me. I checked the time and knew it was almost time for him to take me home, so with a very quick kiss, tongue and all, I turned and started walking away; he grabbed me by the arm and swung me back against the wall for our last kiss.
Walking me home, we started talking about when we'd see each other again, if really ever. He said he enjoyed that afternoon, and with a hug goodbye on my driveway, I walked back to my front door, watching him walk away with a smile.
At my best girl friend Chelsi's party, it was the first night I had my phone back, and I had previously for over a month tried talking to Mitchell about the kind of stuff we used to talk about, but he stopped replying to my messages. I tried calling his cell phone on my house phone, but he never answered or returned my calls. So that night I texted him, and we talked briefly enough for him to tell me that I hurt him far beyond what he could take and that was the last I ever heard of him; this was early March.
Later on when Graham and I had a nasty break up for a few days, I confessed to the aforementioned make out session; since we weren't really together when I told him, he wasn't really upset about it; he just told me about what he had been doing behind my back (more later, if you ask for it). However, when we got back together and talked about what was going on, we agreed that if he stopped talking to the girls around him then I would stop talking to both Mitchell and Jimmy. Jimmy I could live with not talking to, but I was hesitant with cutting off my ties with Mitchell. I still loved (as in cared about) him, probably more than I should have allowed myself, but I can't help what I feel sometimes and even though he had really hurt me with what he had said, I still wanted to be able to talk to him. I knew, though, that if I didn't agree then the deal wouldn't go through and Graham and I would have more problems, so I deleted both contacts from my phone without a second thought.
Regardless of me knowing that talking to either one of them again, especially Mitchell (but equally Jimmy...more in "Him" part 2), would get Graham extremely upset, I want my best guy friend back. I want reconnection. I want to be able to listen to "Hey, Soul Sister" and not want to cry my eyes out. I want my "brother" back.
Too bad it's probably never going to happen. Too bad I've probably hurt him too much for him to ever talk to me again. Too bad I've done too much to him for him to really want me as his "sister" and to really love me back the way I love him.
Love,
Caitlyn
"Him" part 1
I don't remember how we met. I mean, I know the first time I saw him, but we never really had an introduction. I saw him my first day of sixth grade, sixth period: math class. He's a grade above me, and I had double jumped in mathematics, but I was too terrified of "upper classmen" to make any older friends then. But I remembered him; after all, who could really forget a guy that had fiery hair, pale and freckled skin, and mostly wore black?
Summer before seventh grade, I auditioned for a part in my local youth theater's production of High School Musical; at the time, I enjoyed the stage and loved the people at Showase Youth Commmunity, so despite my hatred of the Disney phenomenon, I went out for a place. I was given the role of a thespian (you know, a theater geek?) and at the first practice, there he was, sitting across the stage. I knew he looked familiar, but I couldn't place his name until after the parents left and we played the ever infamous name game. "Jimmy," he had said, and I was determined to befriend him.
At school, he had three of my classes, since we were both in our middle school's gifted program and they group together seventh and eighth grades because of lacks in funding. We had lunch together, and soon fourth period Language Arts with Mrs. Jacobs became my favorite.
Jimmy and I passed notes, but not regular ones. We had this song, "The Music or The Misery" by Fall Out Boy, that we sung sometimes and on these notes, we'd just write a lyric back and forth until the song was finished. With this, at HSM practice we were inseperable, and he took my phone and put his number in my contacts while I did the same with his. When I got it back, I had found Jimmy under "Him" in my contacts with a rather odd picture to match. And then I fell.
Wanting to be closer, I confided in him the secret that I was cutting, which he was seemingly set out to stop. Practice later that week, towards the end, there's a scene in my mind that I just can't get out of perfect detail: him sitting behind me, pulling the chair I was in closer to him, the chair on its back legs. His arms were wrapped around my chest, and all it let me know was that, maybe, he was interested in being with me. I honestly didn't know how I felt about a relationship at all, considering I had had a relationship lasting a year and three months that I still wasn't quite over. I let the weekend come and basically asked him out over email that Friday night. He said yes.
I was still uncomfortable around him at school, and so all we would do was hug and hold hands. HSM rehearsal was different, and I don't really remember why, but I do know that during a break before hardcore practice, he took me down the hall near the bathrooms and held me in this captor grip and told me that there was one way he'd let go; from the way he looked at me with those ligth blue eyes, I could tell it was a kiss. And so I did.
Jimmy and I barely kissed in this part of our relationship, and being the stupid girl I was at twelve, I was always caught up in drama and jealousy and whatever stupid crap I used to be invloved with then. I thought he was "cheating" on me with one of his close friends, and I flipped, essentially. After HSM was over, and a few days before Thanksgiving break, I broke up with him. Seven weeks, gone.
Well, I had tried to get him to care, and I was basically begging him to take my razor blade and "rag" so I wouldn't cut anymore; he refused it and told me to just keep it because he couldn't handle it any longer. I got reported to my guidance counselor for cutting and she called my mom, leaving me home alone with my very very upset mother for five days; I stopped cutting until January.
Between late November and mid-January, I had gone through three other guys before getting that I was never done with Jimmy (who was still my friend at the time). Our theater had cast for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and I was an Oompa-Loompa at first, later adding Mrs. Bucket to my roles. During a practice where they were only blocking Charlie and Willy Wonka, I took the chance and asked him out again, using hypotheticals. We went back out before practice ended.
I had gotten over that fifteen month relationship and was going to put my all into this second chance; first week of the renewed relationship, and we were making out like crazy every morning and every other chance we could get. At lunch, his hand would find its way between my legs, over jeans. Mrs. Jacobs had debate teams up and running, and because we were partners with two weekends remaining before the debate (we were pro-death penalty), I went over to his house so we could "practice." It turned into doing absolutely nothing but rolling around on his bed, making out and him trying to get me to put my hand down his pants, which failed. The next weekend, he spent at my place and stayed for dinner. My mom hovered so much we could barely even touch each other. It drove me nuts.
Even though me skipping fifth period (Spanish) would upset him, we would always get over it by the next school morning, which we spent together with another couple behind the school, by the locker rooms. One time, these sixth graders were throwing rocks at us and one hit me in the back of my head; he chased after them and I believe took one down. I think that was one of the only times he was ever protective of me or showed he cared.
Last couple days of school, he came up with this bright idea to sneak into my house late one night, and it was implied we'd have sex. After he persisted, I agreed to it; too bad I live in a gated community with security. They caught him a half hour after midnight, to which the police called my house phone, and when my mother woke up, she called his mom to update her on what had happened. I was let back to bed after a long lecture, and I begged the next morning to let him still come to my birthday party that Saturday; she allowed it, but only if I wrote his parents an apology letter. I did, and we took it over that afternoon; he had one for my mother, too. In the end he still came to my party, and we were lucky enough that my mom left us alone and stayed inside. At least, when she wasn't taking pictures.
My real birthday was a couple days later, and Jimmy's the day after. While his party was the night of my dance recital's dress rehearsal, I still caught the last hour of the fun. It was what all the movies said "older" parties were: 7 minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, and it was certainly nothing my mother would allow, but I didn't care. Seventh grade to me was reckless, where I could rebel against what I hated and what I had grown up with. When Jimmy and I made it into the closet together, we could hear the people outside the door counting, but it didn't stop us from making out like no tomorrow. Not to mention this was my first experience feeling a guy's penis. To let it be less awkward, the rules had been changed to two minutes instead of seven, and so he and I could finish up what we had done in his closet, we snuck off to the bathroom. Lips locked, we managed to take off each other's shirt, and he was on my bra when I could hear the other kids asking where he and I were. He never got near my breasts when I put my bra and shirt back on and went back to his room with the others. Spin the bottle kind of failed because I only got to kiss girls.
We didn't see each other much the rest of the summer, and I went to my first session of TIP with the promise that he and I would talk every night. I found Graham the first day of classes, and I didn't know what I felt after knowing I was cheating. It was laughable to me, since Graham was such a sweetheart, even though he barely knew anything about me. Didn't know about Jimmy, didn't know about my cutting, didn't know about my friends back home. All we had were twenty days, and when those days ended I had no intentions of talking to Graham ever again.
A couple weeks later, and I was back home, Jimmy's and I's six months together came to a grinding halt; I was upset, but later I could see his point. He was going to high school, let alone not the high school across the parking lot, and he wanted freedom. I thought it was the end of him and I, but I refused to let that be the reality. Even though Graham didn't let me go, and I grew to realize I was head over heels in love with the boy I cheated with.
And in November of 2009, I got what I thought I had wanted. Regardless of Graham.
To be continued...
Love,
Caitlyn
Summer before seventh grade, I auditioned for a part in my local youth theater's production of High School Musical; at the time, I enjoyed the stage and loved the people at Showase Youth Commmunity, so despite my hatred of the Disney phenomenon, I went out for a place. I was given the role of a thespian (you know, a theater geek?) and at the first practice, there he was, sitting across the stage. I knew he looked familiar, but I couldn't place his name until after the parents left and we played the ever infamous name game. "Jimmy," he had said, and I was determined to befriend him.
At school, he had three of my classes, since we were both in our middle school's gifted program and they group together seventh and eighth grades because of lacks in funding. We had lunch together, and soon fourth period Language Arts with Mrs. Jacobs became my favorite.
Jimmy and I passed notes, but not regular ones. We had this song, "The Music or The Misery" by Fall Out Boy, that we sung sometimes and on these notes, we'd just write a lyric back and forth until the song was finished. With this, at HSM practice we were inseperable, and he took my phone and put his number in my contacts while I did the same with his. When I got it back, I had found Jimmy under "Him" in my contacts with a rather odd picture to match. And then I fell.
Wanting to be closer, I confided in him the secret that I was cutting, which he was seemingly set out to stop. Practice later that week, towards the end, there's a scene in my mind that I just can't get out of perfect detail: him sitting behind me, pulling the chair I was in closer to him, the chair on its back legs. His arms were wrapped around my chest, and all it let me know was that, maybe, he was interested in being with me. I honestly didn't know how I felt about a relationship at all, considering I had had a relationship lasting a year and three months that I still wasn't quite over. I let the weekend come and basically asked him out over email that Friday night. He said yes.
I was still uncomfortable around him at school, and so all we would do was hug and hold hands. HSM rehearsal was different, and I don't really remember why, but I do know that during a break before hardcore practice, he took me down the hall near the bathrooms and held me in this captor grip and told me that there was one way he'd let go; from the way he looked at me with those ligth blue eyes, I could tell it was a kiss. And so I did.
Jimmy and I barely kissed in this part of our relationship, and being the stupid girl I was at twelve, I was always caught up in drama and jealousy and whatever stupid crap I used to be invloved with then. I thought he was "cheating" on me with one of his close friends, and I flipped, essentially. After HSM was over, and a few days before Thanksgiving break, I broke up with him. Seven weeks, gone.
Well, I had tried to get him to care, and I was basically begging him to take my razor blade and "rag" so I wouldn't cut anymore; he refused it and told me to just keep it because he couldn't handle it any longer. I got reported to my guidance counselor for cutting and she called my mom, leaving me home alone with my very very upset mother for five days; I stopped cutting until January.
Between late November and mid-January, I had gone through three other guys before getting that I was never done with Jimmy (who was still my friend at the time). Our theater had cast for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and I was an Oompa-Loompa at first, later adding Mrs. Bucket to my roles. During a practice where they were only blocking Charlie and Willy Wonka, I took the chance and asked him out again, using hypotheticals. We went back out before practice ended.
I had gotten over that fifteen month relationship and was going to put my all into this second chance; first week of the renewed relationship, and we were making out like crazy every morning and every other chance we could get. At lunch, his hand would find its way between my legs, over jeans. Mrs. Jacobs had debate teams up and running, and because we were partners with two weekends remaining before the debate (we were pro-death penalty), I went over to his house so we could "practice." It turned into doing absolutely nothing but rolling around on his bed, making out and him trying to get me to put my hand down his pants, which failed. The next weekend, he spent at my place and stayed for dinner. My mom hovered so much we could barely even touch each other. It drove me nuts.
Even though me skipping fifth period (Spanish) would upset him, we would always get over it by the next school morning, which we spent together with another couple behind the school, by the locker rooms. One time, these sixth graders were throwing rocks at us and one hit me in the back of my head; he chased after them and I believe took one down. I think that was one of the only times he was ever protective of me or showed he cared.
Last couple days of school, he came up with this bright idea to sneak into my house late one night, and it was implied we'd have sex. After he persisted, I agreed to it; too bad I live in a gated community with security. They caught him a half hour after midnight, to which the police called my house phone, and when my mother woke up, she called his mom to update her on what had happened. I was let back to bed after a long lecture, and I begged the next morning to let him still come to my birthday party that Saturday; she allowed it, but only if I wrote his parents an apology letter. I did, and we took it over that afternoon; he had one for my mother, too. In the end he still came to my party, and we were lucky enough that my mom left us alone and stayed inside. At least, when she wasn't taking pictures.
My real birthday was a couple days later, and Jimmy's the day after. While his party was the night of my dance recital's dress rehearsal, I still caught the last hour of the fun. It was what all the movies said "older" parties were: 7 minutes in heaven, spin the bottle, and it was certainly nothing my mother would allow, but I didn't care. Seventh grade to me was reckless, where I could rebel against what I hated and what I had grown up with. When Jimmy and I made it into the closet together, we could hear the people outside the door counting, but it didn't stop us from making out like no tomorrow. Not to mention this was my first experience feeling a guy's penis. To let it be less awkward, the rules had been changed to two minutes instead of seven, and so he and I could finish up what we had done in his closet, we snuck off to the bathroom. Lips locked, we managed to take off each other's shirt, and he was on my bra when I could hear the other kids asking where he and I were. He never got near my breasts when I put my bra and shirt back on and went back to his room with the others. Spin the bottle kind of failed because I only got to kiss girls.
We didn't see each other much the rest of the summer, and I went to my first session of TIP with the promise that he and I would talk every night. I found Graham the first day of classes, and I didn't know what I felt after knowing I was cheating. It was laughable to me, since Graham was such a sweetheart, even though he barely knew anything about me. Didn't know about Jimmy, didn't know about my cutting, didn't know about my friends back home. All we had were twenty days, and when those days ended I had no intentions of talking to Graham ever again.
A couple weeks later, and I was back home, Jimmy's and I's six months together came to a grinding halt; I was upset, but later I could see his point. He was going to high school, let alone not the high school across the parking lot, and he wanted freedom. I thought it was the end of him and I, but I refused to let that be the reality. Even though Graham didn't let me go, and I grew to realize I was head over heels in love with the boy I cheated with.
And in November of 2009, I got what I thought I had wanted. Regardless of Graham.
To be continued...
Love,
Caitlyn
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