Here's Where The Problem Started (Chapter 3)

‘The Guy Who Makes You Laugh’

He can be highly unattractive, could be the biggest arsehole in the world with nothing going for him and a dodgy snaggle tooth, but the day he makes you laugh continuously, suddenly his looks no longer matter, his personality isn’t that important and you’re suddenly head over heels in ‘laugh’

I was in the bath, it was about nine o’clock in the evening, and I had my mobile phone a Nokia Face-off, being one of THE most fashionable phones you could have at the time, leaning on the corner of the bath as not to fall into the water.  I don’t actually know why I brought the phone into the bathroom with me at all, I never received many phone calls back then and it never had Apps or usable features to entertain me whilst bathing!  So it was merely in the hope that someone, anyone would ring me, and God forbid I missed that call! If I had left my phone on my bed like any other semi normal person would have done, I probably would have never spoken to him.  Laying in the bath, bored, I heard my phone ring.  Hands wet, towel had fallen on the floor so there was no hope in drying them properly, being so excited I forgot I was surrounded by water, thought I had jeans on and tried to wipe my hands down my legs in order to dry them, clearly never worked! How stupid of me.  I looked at the screen and it was a withheld number.  Even more intriguing, there was no way in hell I was going to miss this call so wet hands and all I picked it up and answered it.

“Hello?” I spoke cautiously as it was withheld number
“Yo!” they replied.

I recognised the voice instantly it was Bryan a boy that I had known for a few years through other friends.  I spoke to him for about twenty minutes and he told me he was with a friend.  I wasn’t interested, I was shy and I had already nearly wet myself because I didn’t speak to anyone new on my mobile, not to mention I don’t remember giving him my phone number!  We all remember how it was back in those days with the ‘I have a friend’ routine! He was very persistent in telling me that his friend wanted to talk to me.  After a little while I stopped objecting. It was exciting speaking to new people.  So he passed the phone to this anonymous friend and we spoke.  He made me laugh instantly and I really liked his voice.  The fact I had no idea who I was talking to left me intrigued.  Who was this fellow, with his confident yet modest approach?  Why did he want to talk to me?  Where did he know me from and why did I not know who he was?

During our conversation Bryan and The Boy kept playing childish games and immature tricks on me.  They would swap the phone between themselves mid conversation.  The boy would do voices and pretend there were more then just himself and Bryan in the room.  Was this supposed to impress me?  I can’t however pretend that my childish humour didn’t completely lap it up, I was laughing constantly! The Boy proceeded in telling me he had a twin brother and that was who he was giving the phone to during the call, he kept switching between characters.  At first I would be talking to him and then to his twin then possibly back to Bryan then back to The Boy.  It was hilarious and it aided in giving me an idea of his sense of humour.  It was clearly childish, as childish as my own considering I laughed at every joke!  Eventually I decided it was time for me to get out of the bath, I was wrinkled enough and had been speaking to them for so long that I had hardly washed myself and the bath water had gone cold.  Washing the good bits with cold water is not my idea of fun! So I needed to end the call, I told the boys it was nice talking to them and rather abruptly said goodbye and hung up.  I couldn’t give them the chance to lure me into another conversation I would’ve sat talking to them, well him all night.  The smile on my face was never ending.  How fickle of me, I had spoken to someone who I knew nothing about and yet I was happy about it.  That was new for me.  I like to analyse things and people, I’m somewhat shallow, if a guy isn’t attractive then I’m not at all interested but for some reason the intrigue had me completely interested in this stranger.  I wanted to know more about him, but how?  I didn’t even know his real name I just had to refer to him as The Boy in my mind because they had told me lies and fake names.

The Boy…who knew then what one phone call would lead to

Around an hour passed by and I was sitting in the living room with my dad and my mum still thinking about him, when unexpectedly my phone started to ring again.  I was baffled! Another phone call, for me!? Who would be calling me at ten o’clock in the evening? My friends and I wouldn’t need to speak about anything as we would be meeting up at seven in the morning.  The more the phone rang the more my heart raced at the possibility of it being Bryan and The Boy again.  I sat looking at the screen flashing Withheld Number and listened to the ring tone play to its final ring and at the last second before the call would have been forwarded to voicemail, I found enough courage and answered.  It was him! Something inside me knew my reaction was weird, but the overwhelming feeling of not wanting to miss the call just in case it was him told me that if anything would happen from these calls it was what I wanted.  I asked him almost instantly, after the initial hello and in hearing his voice knowing it was him and not Bryan,

“How come you have my number? I never gave it to you”
He sounded startled but replied,
“Oh err when me and Bryan called earlier it was from my mum’s phone.  The number was in dialled calls and I just called back. Shouldn’t I have called?”
I laughed,
“No it’s fine, I don’t mind speaking to you and I’m not rude enough to just hang up anyway!”

I actually was rude enough to hang up the phone and I think if it had been any one else I might have but I didn’t want to stop speaking to him, he was exciting, new and fresh.  We continued to talk for approximately four hours.  He laughed, I laughed. He was so funny and down to earth, really quite sweet and jolly.  We asked each other a million questions, I felt like I had known him all my life not just a few hours.  I was so comfortable straight away.  I felt like I had fallen but I didn’t want to, it was too complicated.  I liked someone else.  I was in a relationship with someone else.  However much that relationship was subsiding, I wouldn’t cheat and as I was such a prude talking to someone else was like a sin!  I think what really felt like the sin was that I knew I was attracted to the person I was talking to.   Not physically but something was drawing me to him and I didn’t want it to stop.  Conflicting emotions made me question my behaviour.  Was it normal to speak to strange boys who randomly call you whilst having a boyfriend?  Was it normal to be speaking to someone other then your boyfriend at bedtime?  Was it ok that I probably knew my boyfriend would have been trying to call me throughout the duration I was on the phone to The Boy but I put that to the back of my mind? I managed to convince myself it was just a phone call and I had nothing to worry about.  Innocent conversation to pass the time! That’s what it was and I needed to stop over thinking.

When The Boy and I had finished speaking, we hadn’t ran out of conversation but we just thought best to end the conversation as it was now around two o’clock in the morning and we both had to be up early so we mutually decided it best to end the call.  I fell asleep smiling.  I hadn’t laughed until my cheeks hurt for so long and I surely hadn’t laughed until my gums hurt ever!  I couldn’t help it, everything he said was hilarious to me.  This is why I highlight the fact that when someone can make you laugh like that, you forget all normal things and rational behaviour doesn’t exist.  This is why back then, right now, in any situation ‘The Guy Who Makes You Laugh’ is deadly! Especially when your current situation isn’t hitting all the expectations you thought it would.

I thought about him non-stop the next day.  Random thoughts started to enter my mind and I started to feel bad for my boyfriend.  I thought maybe I had done something wrong.  Clearly I felt I had done something I wasn’t completely comfortable with or I wouldn’t have been questioning myself.  But if I’m completely honest, I didn’t actually care!  How could I have done anything wrong, I was just talking and had made a new friend!? However, the immediate question to ask yourself, which I didn’t ask myself then, but do ask myself now is, WOULD I HAVE LIKED TO KNOW MY BOYFRIEND WAS SPEAKING TO A FEMALE FOR HOURS ON THE PHONE, UNTIL BEDTIME AND ENJOYING IT!? No need to point out that this is completely a rhetorical question however most of us will answer it in the same way in our heads and for those who don’t, well your devil spawn! (I joke I joke) but you see where I’m going with this, some things in relationships are touch and go.  You won’t know the answer until you do it and see the reaction of your partner.  This however I did not do! So in all fairness, I believe that when you keep something a secret or don’t feel completely comfortable sharing that thing with your partner, it’s the unconscious way of telling yourself that you’ve done something wrong or at least something to be frowned upon!  Unfortunately for my boyfriend but very fortunate for me, The Boy and I spoke every night on the phone from that day forward.  We would speak about everything.  It was like having an anonymous new best friend.

But what did I really know about him? What did he look like and who was he?

He Was Around First (Chapter 2)

How do you talk about the first person you remember fancying? However conceited it sounds I was used to being approached and having the pick of the litter!  No guy really kept my attention for longer then a week because they just didn’t have that je ne sais quoi! He, however, had something I hadn’t seen before.  I was instantly attracted to this stranger.  I would stare at him until we caught eyes and then I’d have to look away swiftly, but then look back at him because for some reason I was drawn to him.  He was everything I thought I wasn’t attracted to but for some reason he had me instantly mesmerised.  His medium slim build and dark mysterious eyes intrigued me.  At first I couldn’t understand why he never seemed interested in me.  I was shy so it was highly unlikely that I was going to approach him at any time.  It sounds funny but because I found him handsome rather then cute I knew immediately he was older then me.  I had never spoken to him but his posture and the way he would seem so aloof made him seem somewhat suave, and the way he dressed gave him a style which none of the other boys I knew had.  What surprised me most was the fact I was attracted to him at all, he was dark skinned and that wasn’t my type.  Far from if I’m honest!  I had always been attracted to Caucasian guys or those of a lighter variation and the contrast from him and a Caucasian guy was vast! I guess that convinced me that the attraction was real.  I couldn’t stop what I was feeling.  If it was meant to happen it would happen.  He had unblemished smooth skin and a fresh haircut every time I saw him.  Sometimes I would stare at him just to see if I could find any flaws.  Never did! He put every other boy I knew to shame. I did however want him to like me back which now meant this had turned into a challenge.  I wasn’t one for not getting what I wanted but I also wasn’t one who came across desperate so I figured I’d play the waiting game.  Only time would tell if he liked me back and I had a lot of time on my hands between going to school and going home!  Thinking about it now he was the first significant guy to speak of from my past

He finally spoke to me after a long time of me eyeing him up and him pretending not to look back.  My friends and I used to go home lots of different ways from school, depending on which boy was on the scene for any of us at that time.  This particular journey we took home would require walking through a field, across a motorway nearly to our death, or under an underpass depending on how daring our mood.  This way home was due to me wanting to catch a glimpse of my new found interest.  Funnily enough, for someone who didn’t attend my school or wasn’t even in the same year as me, he would always be at this particular bus stop with his friends, everyday, precisely when we would be walking past.  Coincidence, I think not!  None of the boys that would be there attended our school, they finished earlier then we did and he lived near his school, which meant he would walk past home to be near or around the bus stop we would use to go home so I knew that he was going out of his way to see someone.  I could only hope it was me.  As far as I was concerned I knew he fancied me too and no one could tell me any different!

The haphazard meeting at bus stops and not talking continued on for a few weeks but he eventually spoke to me.  I remember he told me he liked me, I don’t much remember his approach, in those days I’m unsure if boys even had an approach, there was no way he could throw me to the floor and feel me up like the other boys my age used to! I think in the end we just both got sick of the staring.  We started meeting up on a one to one basis.  We’d meet up after school and on the weekend and walk around the local area, which was local to us both as we lived in the same neighbourhood.  We would sometimes walk to his house, and sit in parks talking.  I remember the first time he walked me home from school.  We walked and talked and when we finally reached outside my house it was like neither of us wanted to say goodbye.  I never invited him inside so we stood outside and continued to talk.  As we spoke I felt tiny raindrops falling onto my forehead.  I had no umbrella so I ran the risk of becoming very wet and looking like a wet dog! But I didn’t want to leave him.  I wanted him to kiss me but he never did. It started to rain harder so we decided we should both call it an evening, he left and I can assume he got very wet on his walk back home!  We liked each other but pneumonia isn’t sexy!  A few more weeks of getting to know each other passed and he asked me to be his girlfriend and of course I said yes.  Back then it was so easy, there was no in between for me I was either a girlfriend or I was a friend.  Little did I know that after this relationship, things were going to stop being so black and white and suddenly life was going to start being an irritating colour of grey. 

We were now a proper couple and we did everything together.  We got along really well and had a lot in common.  He was a lovely person, sweet, caring and good looking.  What more could I have asked for.  He had a lot of things going for him.  He was intelligent and very athletic. I loved his body!  If I saw him topless it would make me nervous because I could assume he wasn’t a virgin like I was and he had the kind of body I had only seen in magazines!  His abs were to die for, and that was the one thing I loved about a guy then, the six pack! Time with him was really nice.  I met his parents, they were lovely.  His whole family were great they made me feel so at ease and welcomed, which was all new to me.  I hadn’t been the girlfriend you introduce to family.  I felt so grown up! I met his mum and she was wonderful.  She was always so nice to me.  She spoke to me like she had known me all my life.  After only seeing me twice she wanted to arrange for us to go and watch him play sports one day.  It was really refreshing to be doing something I hadn’t experienced before.  Of course I had met mothers and fathers but never as a girlfriend, always as the friend from school.  I had never met anyone’s mother who was as welcoming as his.  Thinking back to my previous, somewhat of a near rapist ‘boyfriend’s mother, she didn’t really care about my existence, hence why I would mostly meet him at a friends house or not at all.  My new boyfriends mother made me feel comfortable instantly.  I think what made it even nicer was the pride she had in her eyes and huge smile when she spoke about him.  How could I not fall for him? When I met his dad the reaction towards me was the same, he was nice, friendly and inviting, really warm and funny.  Other members of his family likewise, I wanted to be a part of their family, it seemed so ‘My wife and kids!’

We used to go cinema a lot, it was all we ever did really! If we weren’t at each others houses or in each others company at a park we were on the bus going to the cinema.  I suppose the frustration of a young horny guy not having sex with his girlfriend whilst they were alone together took its toll on him but he was too much of a young gentleman to say anything or make it seem like it was a problem.  One of the many times we attended the cinema I saw a sign warning pedestrians about polluted wasteland.  I pointed it out to him because I thought it was funny.  He looked at it and didn’t find it funny, our sense of humours were clearly different.  That was the first and only negative thing I experienced in our relationship.  I had a silly sense of humour and he just didn’t seem to have one at all.  This immediately made us distant and our future seem bleak.  He turned away from the sign so I shouted out to him, “NO WAIT don’t move, it’s polluted right there!” He looked startled and confused.  “What?” he whispered somewhat unimpressed, so I walked towards him pretending I was dodging polluted ground and life threatening things on the floor and grabbed his face with both hands either side and kissed him.  “Saved your life!” then smiled shyly at him.  His face was very surprised.  From the very beginning of any relationship I make it clear to a guy that I do not kiss first; I will never initiate a kiss.  I can assume that has a lot to do with my fear of rejection as even now at twenty seven I find it hard to do.  That day however I clearly changed my mind and kissing him first seemed like the right thing to do, possibly as some kind of distraction as I felt childish because he never found the sign as funny as I did.  Possibly as a way to convince myself I was still interested, or at least convince him I was.

I was used to being with my friends and having childish, not real relationships and it became apparent that we both had different ideas of what this relationship was and where it was going.  I was only about sixteen at the time and he used to talk to me about really intense things like babies, marriage and living together! Slowly I started to become a bit apprehensive.  At the time I didn’t think about what those things would involve but I knew it would be intense and I also knew that the thought of such responsibilities scared me.  I was still a virgin, we didn’t even have sex yet and he expected me to want all those things?  Slowly things began to change between us.  I wanted to gallivant with my friend’s he wanted to sit indoors all the time.  I wanted to go to parties, he wanted to stay at home and relax together.  What did he really expect from me?  I tried but never quite adjusted.  He treated me really well, I cannot complain about anything really.  I used to collect bears and he would get me different bears for no reason and leave them on my front doorstep to surprise me.  Whatever I wanted I got even though I never wanted or asked for anything, except maybe Burger King! Only thing I’d maybe want him to do is chill out and relax a little bit, not to take life so seriously but he was just so uptight all the time.  Maybe now I can appreciate he was just that little bit more mature then I was but at the age we were, it felt like uptight! We became weird.  I noticed he didn’t make me laugh enough and eventually the laughter stopped altogether.  I would be around him and my face would be set like I’d just been told I couldn’t go to a friend’s house by my mother!  Even my mum noticed it. “How come you don’t seem very happy lately” she’d ask anytime I was with her after I would get off the phone to him.  Would just tell her to leave me alone or stop asking me silly questions and then be moody for the rest of the day, partly because of him and partly because of myself but I would blame my mum, it was easier.  I never understood why we got like that, there was nothing about him I didn’t like so what was wrong?  Eventually I stopped caring.  I wasn’t going to be moody all the time because I was dating a young black Scrooge! My humour is somewhat childish, I laugh at farts and people falling over, swear words and fights.  He never found those things funny.  It puzzles me how people can be so different but made of all the same things, bar women having a vagina and men having a penis! I guess it’ll be something I will always wonder.  Why did we never work out, when the foundation was perfect?

Maybe I was distracted.  If I’m honest I wasn’t distracted at all, at the time, he was all I was interested in, but then when I got bored, I think my mind shut off and I did start losing interest rather rapidly.  I didn’t want to be with him anymore but I couldn’t bring myself to end it because nothing was obviously wrong, I knew he liked me and I felt bad.  How could I dump someone and say the excuse was because you didn’t make me laugh, its not like he was a comedian, it wasn’t his job!  I don’t like when people dislike me so I would rather stay unhappy at the risk of making someone else feel sad.  Come to think of it that is probably the silliest thing I have ever heard and the fact it’s something I apply to my life makes me stupid! But in saying that it just makes me a nice person, nice people may finish last, but at least they finish! However when my mind has shut off to the possibility of us going any further, my thoughts begin to wander.  In this instance they wandered unknowingly right into someone else’s path.

If you like to laugh and someone doesn’t make you laugh do you instinctively search for someone who does? Like if the sex is shit do you try to find someone who can give it to you good?  Maybe you can’t laugh with two guys at the same time…

From ABC to BOY (Chapter 1)

I don’t know whether to tell you about things as of now or start from back when I was a teenager, which now when I think about it logically was a LONG time ago! Before I put pen to paper, well finger to keyboard being sixteen only seemed like last week. But in reality is in fact eleven years ago! So, I’ll tell you the interesting bits mixed in with the boring bits which makes the brilliant cocktail I call LIFE!

I suppose the whole reason I’m writing this is to deal with the one major thing that’s fucked up my mental state for the last I don’t know eight to ten years! No need to ask what that is as we all know there’s only one of a few things that can make u lose your mental state.  Apart from actual mental illness that is!

1. For us females MEN and for you males WOMEN (which still has men in it so to be honest I think they are just life’s overall problem! I joke I joke!)

2. Lending a friend or family member money. That can pull on your mental health strings a bit.  Suddenly find that they’re actually completely unreliable and sneaky in regards to giving you your money back, funny those qualities never show themselves before!

3. A friend getting into sexual relations with a family member or another close friend.  Eight out of ten times this in itself is a recipe for disaster!

My mental illness stems from point number 1!

So from the beginning we go!

In my younger days, around the time of being in secondary school I got a substantial amount of attention from a few different boys.  Not just boys from my school who would get excited if you’re knee high sock fell down! But that kind of attention where they would be trying to get to know you, I assume puberty had started to kick in and now girls were the thing to do, literally! Boys were actually starting to speak to me whilst walking home or trying to get my attention on the bus, boys from different schools were interested too!  What a confidence boost.  I’m glad I got male attention when I was younger.  It prepares you for the future.  All the ugly girls in school who the boys never really paid any attention to, left school and started giving their vaginas away like a prize in a raffle that everyone had the winning ticket to! Bad times!

Before the attention started I used to feel ugly.  I had to wear big clunky shoes to school and unflattering tailored boy’s trousers.  Would always have my hair in some form of silly plaited variation because my mum still used to do it for me and obviously hadn’t realised it wasn’t the 80’s anymore and I was no longer in primary school!  I was shy but smart so felt like a nerd.  Not your classic nerd but near enough.  If I didn’t have the circle of friends I had I don’t know what I would have done because I wouldn’t speak to anyone new.  Attention was all foreign territory for me, the most I was used to, was boys from my school looking at me in Physical Education because I used to wear a really short tennis skirt on purpose.  That was the beauty of having an older sister who had to have the same uniform as you four years prior, gave me the heads up on school clothes that no one else would have, albeit hand me downs!  The best way the boys from my school would show their interest in you was by pushing you over to grope you whilst helpless and screaming on the floor.  Funny thing about it was they would never actually grope any of the good bits.  You would just have loads of pokes and fingers digging your arms and legs.  I assume the rugby scrum of about 6-7 boys all on top of one girl whilst she screamed was somewhat of a sex education lesson the teachers were never going to give you!

What did I know about boys?

I was very much a family orientated kind of girl.  I didn’t go to the local youth centres or after school clubs.  I liked to be with my cousins and other family members.  I started going out places with my friends, hanging around with them properly not just staying at home.  When I say ‘going places’ the most we would venture to was a local park or we would go and play out with other people, mostly walk around the local area and see other kids walking around the local area. We walked a lot! Walking was cool! My style changed from tomboyish to experimental young girl.  I got creative with my hair and started using hair gel, to stick most of my hair to my face like the other girls did, doing random hairstyles that only girls and boys of my age group and era appreciated at that time!  I would wake up early every morning to do my hair so I didn’t have the same style everyday.  Back then I thought it looked so good, damn the boys who used to fancy me and make me feel like my shit never stank, because when I look back at any picture evidence of those hairstyles I want to vomit! I find it amazing thinking back, how boys can make your persona change.  Before boys I liked to do school work, did all my homework on time and enjoyed being at school.  Then when the male attention rolled in, academic driven me rolled out.  Not completely, but enough to stop the homework being handed in on time and the carefully designed presentations I used to give in became non-existent.  I didn’t  miss the old me, I still don’t because I was obviously growing up and everything you do as a child and later in life as an adult shapes you into the person you are before you die.  However, if I had realised back then what I know about guys now, I wouldn’t have placed so much life emphasis on them at that particular time and would have kept my school work and studies my main priority.

My first ‘boyfriend’ to speak of, who wasn’t really a proper boyfriend at all, he was a guy from another school when I was about fifteen.  The ‘relationship’ was childish but thinking about it now it wouldn’t have been anything other then childish, I was a child and I was as frigid as a board!  I would never go and meet him alone I would always bring my friends along so you can imagine I wouldn’t let him feel me up, which he wouldn’t be amused by as he was older then me and wasn’t a virgin like I was.  I was really self conscious of my breasts. They were small and I was surrounded by friends who were at least a C cup and over, I was just coming out of training bras!  Can u imagine my horror if he had taken off my bra and seen the A cup label inside, I would’ve died on the spot.  Me and my small breasts DEAD! I’m happy to say that at the age I am now I am finally comfortable with my breasts.  Whoever doesn’t like to look at my mosquito bites really doesn’t have to and with the aid of socks and chicken fillets I have the breasts I want! So I don’t give a hot shit what anyone else thinks about them, they’re mine and I figure if a bitch has something to say in regards to hers being bigger then mine, I’ll put them in her boyfriends mouth! (Rant over)

One weekend I went to this then ‘boyfriends’ house, he had asked me to stay over that night so I agreed.  I knew he probably wanted to have sex with me but as far as I was concerned he knew I didn’t want to, I had told him before on numerous occasions that I didn’t want to, I had never let him put anything anywhere near me so why would he try!?  I thought he cared, I thought he listened. I still went as he was my boyfriend after all and I didn’t want to look like a child to him as he was older then me and if I’m honest I ran out of any feasible excuse so I had to go.  His mum had gone away for the weekend so we relaxed a lot, watched T.V whilst snuggled up on the sofa. It was a nice weekend, he cooked dinner but I refused to eat anything. I was young and at that time as a teen I wouldn’t eat in front of boys, No wonder I was so skinny!  One of the nights it got exceedingly late and I was letting him have a quick over the clothes fondle.  We were kissing but I wouldn’t let him go under my shirt, so he tried to undo my trousers but I wouldn’t let him.  I had let him finger me before at my friends house but I didn’t like it, he was too vocal, would talk to me about if I liked it and would tell me to ‘just relax’.  Not being at all funny, but why would I enjoy you trying to stick your hand up my vagina?!  It’s a common misconception that we as females enjoy this, some of us do.  Most of us don’t! So at fifteen the thought of someone putting their fingers into the depths of my lady bits, rooting around as if to find gold was not appealing to me at all. And I’m still yet to know what physical pleasure fingering a girl has on a man? If your fingers were where the sensation was you’d suck them a lot rather then having a wank! I was still coming to terms with having to wear thongs and have them invade my arse all day, a finger in my vagina, way too much!

He got very annoyed. I remember being dragged down off the sofa by my legs onto the floor with a thud! All I remember after that was him dragging me around his wooden floor by my trousers.  I couldn’t believe it, was this real? Was he actually doing this?  It was like the devil had taken over his whole body.  I could see the anger in his face and the determination in his eyes and could feel the force of how hungry he was to get my trousers off, I was really scared and it was completely silent.  There was no noise, he didn’t say anything to me, he didn’t shout and I couldn’t scream. Just Silence. He dragged me across the floor and I held onto my jeans with every last bit of strength I could muster.  He was not getting into my knickers.  I was not getting raped today or any other.  He managed to get my trousers down to my upper thigh whilst I was still kicking and struggling.  I can remember how I kept sliding along the wooden floor. It was like being on an ice rink with no ice skates.  I slid from one side of the floor to the other bouncing off the sofas.  I remember those sofas, leather, cream coloured and cold.  I remember holding on to the top of my black jeans so tightly it started to hurt the tips of my fingers, but I refused to let go.  My thumbs holding onto the inside of my knickers and all my fingers pressed tightly into the thick jean material.  My fingers, my grasp were literally the only thing that stopped the worst happening.  When I finally managed to scream ‘get OFF!’ it was like he immediately snapped back to reality.  He just knelt by my feet and looked at me somewhat shocked, somewhat gormless but it wasn’t a feeling of shame or embarrassment, more of a feeling of damn I didn’t succeed.  I fixed myself up in silence and left.  I always wondered what would have happened if I wasn’t as strong as I was.  If I had let go of my trousers would I have been raped?  If I had let go of my trousers would he have actually done that to me?  Glad I never found out.

That day was never mentioned between either of us again.  Vanished, it was like it had never happened.  We never officially had the ‘you’re dumped’ conversation but I just stopped being his girlfriend.  I stopped answering his phone calls and replying to his texts so I figure he got the message.  We’ve always spoken since. I never held it against him.  Not completely sure why, I think I was possibly too scared to realise the intensity of what could have actually happened to me, or possibly I just tried to forget. I think the incident was the unspoken reason we broke up.  I think he scared me right out of like for him.  But…I can admit to part of it being because I had seen someone else who tickled my fancy.

I was now comfortable with the fact that I was turning into a young lady rather then a child.  I was now someone who got the guy and I could have relationships.  Even though this boyfriend was nothing serious I knew what to expect now.  The male species wanted to get physical.  I had the option to give them what they wanted or keep it to myself. Boys wanted to fuck! Other girls of fifteen had sex, but I knew I didn’t want to until I met Mr. Right and when I knew I was having a proper relationship.  When I would have one I didn’t know but the search had now begun.

A Little Bit About Her (Intro)

Rachel Franki Dellory had long curly hair, she had dyed it chocolate brown and mostly wore it straightened as she didn't much like her curls they made her head hot!  Her eyes were big, a bright shade of ocean blue with long eyelashes which always made her look happy.  She hid a lot behind her eyes.  Her lips were thin, a light shade of pink and when she smiled it was infectious.  Skin tone was the colour of a Toffee chew sweet.  She was about 5ft 4inches in height with a naturally slim build and her shoe size was five and a half, well her right foot was!  A naturally pretty girl, she never wore any makeup or anything else to falsify her look to others, she was somewhat of a plain Jane.

Like many others Rachel had a dream, one day she would open her own business, in what however, she wasn’t quite sure!  She had a passion for drawing but never knew if she could really use it in the real world so never pursued it.  She was an ok singer, but was too shy to perform.  Could act in front of her mirror in the confines of her bedroom and was somewhat good at it but would never get in front of an actual camera or audience. Rachel lived in a life of limbo.  Family members would give her the 'You are so smart, you have the potential to do anything' speech, or the 'So what are you doing now?' question which would be jarring at the best of times.  How was she meant to answer the questions to other people if she hadn't yet answered them to herself, she didn’t know!

She attempted going to college and inevitably dropped out of every one she had ever enrolled in, couldn’t quite grasp what she was really interested in doing as a career.  On the whole she was good at most things, everything she was taught she would master, some things would be so easy they were boring and well the other things were just not interesting enough to keep her attention, which resulted in, 'The Three Month Curse'!! In all five of the colleges she had attended, in the third month of being there she would just stop getting out of bed on time!  Her friends would call her to see where she was and she had already mastered a lie to tell them her whereabouts.  Teachers would ring home but the routine in her household was so precise she knew when her mum or dad would be around and wipe the answering machine.  It was like a ritual.  Eventually her luck ran out and one teacher managed to get through to her mum, which resulted in her being kicked out of college and as a result of this she then had to be on benefits for a few months of her teen life.  She did that for about six weeks, then she got a job!

Rachel was hired to work as a Personal Assistant for a London based printing company.  It was mediocre, not a huge amount of staff, about 12 in total, she was the youngest and newest member and hated every living minute of it!  She always thought she was only hired because of her looks.  It had been the first interview she had ever attended where they had asked her to attach a picture of herself to her CV...Nonetheless she had a job and was no longer what society classed as a 'bum'!

 

However, Rachel still felt like something was missing.  In retrospect she had everything she wanted, minus her own house! A really nice car! A swimming pool! A job she loved!  Every Christian Louboutin shoe ever made! A rainbow with a never ending pot of money at the end! A lifetime supply of Chocolate flavoured Snack-a-Jacks!  Apart from all those little things, everyone around her was having children, settling down, living with a boyfriend and she had 'him'.

She made the best friendships with guys, obviously she had her close girlfriends but she found her personality was suited to being friends with men.  Every guy she was friends with would happily tell her they would have sex with her, except the homosexual ones but that’s obvious in itself she never had a penis! That was nothing of interest to her, any of her male friends were just that, friends!  Each would make a point of letting her know she was definite sex material, which would then always change the dynamic of the friendship, but they would never actually want the commitment, not from her anyway.  Rachel was 'That Girl'

'That Girl'

Good enough to give advice to the guys when things weren't going so well for them and another female, good enough to go places with and hang out with on various occasions, also good enough to be the friend you would fuck, but not good enough to give an official title to as not to 'ruin' the great friendship you have!

She felt stuck.  Money, cars and things didn’t interest her, she liked nice clothes and liked to spend money but wasn’t materialistic at all.  She liked a person for who they were not what they had or could give her.  Everything she had got she got for herself.  All Rachel longed for was true love and happiness.  She would do anything for her family and friends and wanted to find someone to share her everything with...

This is a story based on true events told through fictional characters about growing up, relationships, love, sweat and tears whilst living a normal life in an abnormal world

This is Rachel's story...

(Any likeness one  may find between themselves and any character in this Blook is purely coincidental)