Out of Control

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Sophomore year rolled around with Damien and I still "in love." He had spent the whole summer with his dad and had only bothered to visit me three or four times, even though his dad only lived two hours away. I was pretty put off by this, so I said something about it. He quickly shut me up by telling me how he never got to see his dad and calling me f******selfish, once again.

"I'm not selfish. I just love you, Damien."

"If you f****** loved me you would understand why I want to see my f****** dad! I never get to see him because my f****** mom won't let me except for like once a month."

I knew he was lying. He saw his dad every other weekend, and sometimes many weekends in a row. But he said things with such conviction - even when you knew he was lying he could somehow convince you otherwise.

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"Just think before you open your f****** mouth."

"Okay." and once again I put my head down like a reprimanded puppy. The tears in my eyes threatened to overflow. Why couldn't I ever do anything right?

It was always something. He was never happy with me, even though my whole life was dedicated to making him happy. It just wasn't enough, but I wanted so badly for it to be.

That year we had biology together, so we sat at the same lab table. He picked a table in the back. I later realized this was so he could do inappropriate things to me under the desk bc no one could see. Every time he knew we were going to watch a movie he would tell me to wear sweat pants - we watched a movie at least once a week. It made it easy for him to hide what he was doing.

I felt so uncomfortable. I was terrified that someone was going to notice.

"Stop it."

"Oh come on, you know you like it."

"I don't care just stop, someone is going to see!"

"Not if you don't draw attention to it. Just be quiet and relax."

"Please stop. Please."

"Shhh."

*******************************************

"I can't see the powerpoint, Taylor. Will you write the notes for me?"

"What... I have carpal tunnel syndrome!"

"Forget it."

"Come on... you know I would help you but my hand hurts so bad..."

"I said to f****** forget it!"

"I'm sorry... I'll write them for you."

"Awesome, thanks babe."

"N-no problem."

"Are you about to cry?"

Yes. "No."

"Wow. You're such a f****** cry baby. If you're going to cry, cry about real s***."

The tears came. I couldn't seem to stop them. Damien scooted further away from me, giving me a disgusted look as he scraped his chair along the floor. He looked at me in a way that I could only equate with hatred. Why wasn't he ever happy? Why couldn't I ever do anything right? When the bell rang to go to the next class he stormed out and didn't look back. And once again, I was left all alone.

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