Bobby

Facebook will be the death of me, I swear. I just can't seem to get rid of it, though. I suppose I should be glad, because guess what happened now...

I got a friend request from a very formal-sounding name I didn't immediately recognize. It took a few minutes to get it to sink in, but then I remembered. And it all came flooding back, memory by memory, hit by hit.

(i'm going to change all the names and then do my best to remember them and keep them straight! be kind!)

My first day of high school, I was in a homeroom with people from all grades. Out of all of them, there was one guy, David, that was pretty cute. I was all about meeting new people and finding the hot boys. Well, turns out David was all too eager to show me around. He was nice, but very, very weird and came from a really fucked up home. But his friends were cute and welcomed me in as part of their group.

They were skaters. Most were drug users. Oh, why sugar-coat it? They were addicts, straight up. They were mostly seniors, although some were juniors. They were into the local music scene, which was something I was trying to learn about. But, the important thing to remember here is that they paid attention to me. I kinda felt like I belonged. It took me a long time to meet everyone, but I found The One on the fourth day of school: Bobby. The complication was that David sort of thought he and I were a Thing, and he was best friends with Bobby. And we all know there's no real way to make that switch, right?

Here's the most fucked up thing of all: I don't remember much else. I don't remember how exactly it happened, I just remember that David got really, really pissed off at me and Bobby both, quit speaking to us, and Bobby and I were a Thing. I also remember being warned multiple times about Bobby from multiple people, but they wouldn't say why. The details on how we got together and all of that, though...totally fuzzy.

As it turned out, Bobby was the school's most prolific drug dealer. A few of his rules were that he didn't do his own drugs, he only dealt with people he knew, he would never use 'hard' drugs, and school still came first. He made excellent grades and made a ton of money. He knew everybody, and when we'd go to parties, he'd lead me around by the hand and introduce me to people, and I felt like a queen because every guy honestly liked him, every druggie wanted to be in his good graces, and every girl wanted him. And he was with me.

Eventually, he let me help him with his business. I spent countless hours wearing latex gloves, helping him tear apart books of blotter paper acid, dividing it into sheets, then individual hits, wrapping them in aluminum foil and then putting them into tiny baggies. It was a time-consuming operation, but we spent those countless hours talking, and really getting to know each other.

As I'm sure you can predict, my education began to take a nosedive. I was all about Bobby. I was cutting school, which he rarely did, to go bowling or to play pool and always get fucked up. He did skip with me a lot, but not all the time.

His family was majorly messed up. We'd go to his house after school and his mom would be on the couch, wearing nothing but a tiny little cropped t-shirt and panties. She was very pretty, in a Joan Jett / Kristen Pfaff sort of way. But then sometimes we'd go to his house and we'd open the door and see her naked ass straight up in the air, bent over on the couch, and her boyfriend changing positions to take her from behind. Like she didn't know we were out of school, you know? She was always drunk - very nice when she wasn't taking it up her ass on the living room couch in plain view of me, Bobby, and her youngest son, who was only 10 at the time - and probably had no business trying to raise children. It's no wonder Bobby was cruising down the wrong path at break-neck speed.

Of course, this is when I started using drugs. Only when he gave them to me, at first. I didn't really buy from him (only when i knew he needed the money), and he was really very generous with it. Of course, I took a liking to the feeling and ended up being his best non-paying customer. Well, his and a few other people's, too.

But we spent lots of time together, although not quite as much at school. He was busy with 'things,' and we were on totally opposite ends of the school all day. So, to maximize our time together, we skipped more than we should have, probably. We would sometimes spend the entire day wrapped up in the huge red velvet comforter he had, listening to Kate Bush, Jimi Hendrix, Sarah McLachlan, or the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and doing everything except actually having sex.

There's the thing.

I was still a virgin. (not technically, because i had been raped that preceding school year, but i was still in major denial and felt it didn't really count) I guess I fucked up by even telling him that, because he refused to be the one to introduce me to the wonderful world of sex. He told me up front: we would stay together as long as he could go without actual sex, and then he'd have to send me on my way. It was a weird position he put me in, because he placed more importance on virginity than I did. I told him I didn't need to be in love with someone to lose my virginity - I just needed to like them enough to feel like they deserved first crack at me. Bobby totally fit the profile, but simply refused to do it.

Eventually, he explained himself. He said that his mother had always told him that a girl will forever love the man to whom she loses her virginity. Bobby said that was too heavy a responsibility, that if someone else took it, and we got back together and fell in love, that it was meant to be, but that he would never take any girl's virginity and thus requiring their eternal affections. Bobby was a true believer in fate. He didn't try too hard to make anything in particular go his way, or whatever. He was a go-with-the-flow kind of guy. What happened happened, it's the Universe's will. He honestly believed that, if we were meant to be, we'd find each other again.

Yes, it was all a bunch of bullshit. Yes, it was borne of a drug-induced haze, from all 3 of us. Try to remember, though, that I was only 14 and was just beginning my high-dive into Hell. I still didn't understand that people don't always make sense - especially ones who are always under the influence of drugs.

Somehow, I ended up getting together with this real preppy douchebag just so I could fuck him. He thought that meant we were together. He wouldn't stop coming by my house (that is a whole other story, though). So, while he went on a family vacation that next week, I went back to Bobby.

And I know it ended again somehow, because that's when I entered the "Jason" phase of high school, but I don't remember HOW. Anyway, it doesn't matter. It will all come to light soon enough.

Bobby and I have been texting each other over the last few days. It's mostly been get-to-know-you stuff with little talk of the past. We did get to talking about my current job and whether or not he knew any of my co-workers from Way Back When, and I brought up the fact that I remember very little of my teenage years - and what I do remember is spotty and out of context and presented in isolation. He offered to help me piece back together what I don't know.

I'm scared to death. I'm scared because there's a part of me that doesn't want to know the truth. There's a part of me that doesn't want to have to feel the same things I felt before, which is probably a big reason I've blocked it - it HURTS. There's a part of me that feels like I absolutely must know everything in order to move forward with my life, but I just don't know. I'm just not sure.

There is absolutely no chance of this becoming a romantic thing. He has a girlfriend with whom he's very much in love, and he lives 3.5 hours away. I've changed quite a bit from the girl I once was, while he seems to have views that haven't changed much - especially with politics - and I just really disagree with them. He did say that I still look the same, but with hair (long story), and that I look really good, and I should call my parents and thank them. Heh. Feels good to hear, because I think he's still gorgeous. (i snuck a peek at his gf's facebook pics where they're together...)

So. Yeah. I'm sorry these posts end up being so fucking long. I just don't know how to be brief...