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Autobiography: Chapter 8
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Prose/Short Stories Chapter 8
This sordid relationship also ruined all the other relationships I took great pains to keep intact. My parents weren’t exactly fond of said beau. And I endlessly tried to defend him to no avail. They translated my defense of him as an attack on them. And I interpreted it as an attack on me.
Misunderstandings even if the basis appears logical can destroy the healthiest of relationships. And to that the fact that my relationship with my parents was already damaged, the misunderstandings become that much more magnified.
In the end, they were right in all their assumptions about him. How as soon as he was satisfied with what I offered him, he would walk away and never look back. I was too blinded by what I thought was love to see the truth right there in front of me: the fact that he only wanted me at certain times of the week when there was no one else nearby to entertain him.
That is what I was to him, a source of entertainment, not a love interest. There is a difference. When I became too boring and overused, he moved on. It’s as simple as that.
Sure, he had feelings for me when we were officially together, but they were far surpassed by the fact that he had long since become numb to love as soon as I made myself unlovable. I made myself unlovable by succumbing to my vices which in turn made me no longer the woman he wanted to love. I was no more the sweet, exciting woman that shined down on his life. I had become a darkness that shaded itself in sinful pastimes. I was a whore, to be frank. My behavior was as such even if I tried to believe I was still as pure as I was before all this.
I had my boundaries though. Sometimes they tried to erase themselves in the heat of the moment. But I never did more than I thought was responsible given the circumstances which involved our surroundings: the fact that we were in a hotel room that he paid good money for and he cancelled his previously-arranged plans for me.
This, of course, was not reason enough to do more than I was comfortable doing whether or not it fit with what I believe he deserved. Women often forget to consider themselves and their wants and needs when it comes to lustful activities. Here, we oblige to be the inferior being by making the man’s pleasure our first priority. Forget that we rarely feel good about ourselves during the ordeal much less afterwards when we must play over the meeting and begin to feel ashamed of ourselves.
After each time we saw each other, I cried violently. The little pleasure I received was not enough to make up for the emotional torment I was putting myself through. But I didn’t learn the lesson on my own; I needed another woman replacing me to teach me what I didn’t want to accept.
